Growing pains
by rozzy07
Summary: 15 year old Sam faces another move, another battle with his dad, and the neglect that surfaces when Dean isn't around to be the buffer between them. Limp Sam to come, and whumpage for Papa Winchester and Dean too!
1. Chapter 1

_So usual disclaimers apply about Supernatural and own__ing nothing but an over hyperactive imagiation. Hands up also about all those annoying mistakes being mine, all mine (damn it!). _

_I suppose this is a prequel to my last story 'Becoming too visible' where Sam has a secret that he has kept from his brother since he was a teenager. It starts with a 15 year old Sam being uprooted one time too many by his dad. More angst and (rubbing hands gleefully as my imagination goes into overdrive here) of future whumpage - especially the added bonus of LimpSam to come!_

**Growing pains**

**Chapter 1. No voice, no choice.**

Sam's pen hovered over the problem he had been working on and his mouth went instantly dry. His father's deep voice drifted in from the kitchen and the words that he had dreaded all summer long echoed out loudly. A new hunt and this time so far away that they would have to move.

Not for the first time in his fifteen years of trailing after his father's obsession did he feel something akin to heartache. Yet again he about to lose something that even for the shortest of times had felt like a home, had felt like normal.

Desperately he looked out of the window battling to keep his emotions in check. The late Autumnal sunshine bathed the vista gold and his gaze travelled down through the thin line of trees that stretched out for almost half a mile to the white sand dunes and the thin line of blue of the ocean.

The sliver of blue was a too painful reminder of a time where he had felt truly felt alive. Leadbetter Point was a place he had learnt to surf against all expectations, a place where he excelled riding those powerful waves that not even his older brother was willing to try. It really had been a freedom for him that he had never experienced before.

He was never naïve enough to not know that this was all down to his brother with his father away more than usual. Dean had loosened the reins enough for him to actually have a life. Now all because his father chose a new direction it was all about to be taken away from him.

Slowly Sam closed his eyes in a desperate attempt to shut out the picturesque view now mocking him, allowing bitter acid rise up his oesophagus knowing that he had allowed the last four months to become too real. To now leave him feeling utterly fucking stupid.

Stupid as in not having kept up his guard after the first month when he dared to smile at the pretty girl at the front of the English class and for allowing that peculiar feeling in his tummy to grow when she smiled back. Pretty Holly Morland with her easy smile and chocolate brown eyes really had lay claim to his heart there and then.

Even more stupid as by the second month he was actually enjoying the smell of her hair and the taste of her lips, like over ripe strawberries, at the back of the bleachers on a Friday night when he would lie and tell Dean he was doing a fictional few hours on the debate team.

And really dumb ass stupid because by the third month he dared to ignore what his dad and brother were all about, about what being a Winchester was, and had asked Holly to the Thanksgiving dance.

Now tonight as it played out he was most definitely feeling close to moronic in daring to believe that any of that with Holy was ever going to happen. Real life never happened like that for a Winchester. Not for this particularly fucked over Winchester anyways.

Eyes glistening he stared through the window and fought to stop the hurt from spilling out physically. It was the last thing he could keep control of here. His hurt. Especially when his dad despised such weakness and would use it as another excuse to rag on him for.

Brushing back angrily the moisture from his eyes he knew his dad would spear him to the floor with verbal bullets if he caught him mooning about a girl, about a life he was never supposed to have.

Slowly he found enough control to put down his pen and sucked in a long agonised breath, willing for his lungs to expand, willing for the scream of denial on the tip of his tongue to remain silent. Yet all he could hear pounding in his head was one word. No.

Desperately he tried to get a handle on the feelings churning inside like a physical fire but the bitterness was all to real burning with the strength of acid inside of him.

In a few months time he would be struggling just to remember the name of this place, or how good Holly smelt, or the faces of friends that he had been foolish enough to make and invest time with. They were all just another set of memories soon to be lost. And this time around he really was starting to hate his dad for its loss.

**o0o0o0o0o**

Caleb's voice appealed down the line, "I just thought you might have jumped at the chance of a longer time in the sun what with those achy old bones of yours old man. Winter is literally on the doorstep and believe me Wisconsin is going to be a real bitch after California."

There was strangled cough down the line before John responded. "My old bones will do just fine. Besides like I said this is a really big job Jim has dug up in Wisconsin. Gonna be based there for a good couple of months at least."

"So no chance of you postponing it and helping me out with this Florida job first? This really is a two man job at least."

John chewed on his bottom lip not wanting to let down his friend, "Look I promised Jim and he's already made plans for my arrival. I suppose though I could make do without Dean for a few weeks while I set up base…."

Caleb realised that this was the best deal he was going to get and quickly snapped up the offer. "Thanks John. It will be good to work with Dean again, he's got a good head on his shoulders even if his mouth does run away with him at times."

There was soft laugh, "Just make sure that its work that you keep your focus on and not all that pretty eye candy around."

Caleb spluttered back, "Hey it's not my fault this gig happens to be in the Sunshine State and the girls wear practically next to nothing. Besides are you saying that I will take less than a professional approach to this gig?"

John sniggered at the man's mock indignation, "Knowing you dude I bet you've already got your speedo's packed together with a box of condoms. Professional my ass!"

"Look here John it's not me you have to worry about. That son of yours can barely keep it in his pants at the best of times. You really sure you don't want to swap jobs and let Dean go to Wisconsin instead?"

His suggestion was met with a deep laugh before John answered, "No dufus, if you want help then it's my oldest boy or nothing."

Taking what was offered with a thankful words Caleb quickly came back, "So Junior it is then."

"Best not let Dean hear you say that Caleb," warned John softly.

The younger hunter though dared to tease even further, "Ah come you mean Dean still bitching about his baby brother growing like a weed? I hear they're nose to nose now."

"The words 'It being against all the laws of nature' comes to mind," sniggered back John.

"I dare say by the time the runt of the litter stops growing he's gonna be taller than you both."

"Yeah, like that's ever going to happen!" growled back John in denial. In truth he was a little taken back by the notion that his youngest would outstrip him height wise and the control that went with it. He could appreciate now how Dean was feeling about his little brother daring to threaten to be taller than he was. It just didn't seem natural.

Sensing his old friend's thoughts Caleb offered up his plan in deflection, "So I was thinking that it's best that I fly down and meet up with Dean in Cali and then we could head down to Florida together. The next attack should take place at the end of the month so it will give us enough time to suss out the whole set up down there."

"Yeah sounds like a plan. Gives you time to go over the finer points and make sure there are no nasty surprises waiting in store for you when you get there."

Caleb knew it was his John's way of saying to look out for his son and murmured back his agreement. "You know it will. Thanks John. I'll speak to you later then."

John sighed as the phone line went dead dreading what he would have to do next, knowing that Sam was in the other room and would have heard his entire conversation he prepared himself for the next battle of wills.

Tiredly he stood up and scrubbed a hand over his mouth, trying to get his game face back on before he faced his youngest. Inwardly he prepared to steel himself against his youngest ability to make him feel like the worst parent in the world with just a look.

When he ended his call with Caleb he had half expected Sam to come storming into the kitchen to scream the odds at him but the silence was now deafening. He grinned ruefully to himself on realising he was more scared of facing his son than most of the fugly creature he dealt with out there in the dark world of hunting.

The boy had a way of using words more effective than any weapon against him and he could only answer them with his own harsh comebacks. Unlike Dean his youngest didn't seem to understand there was a reason for a chain of command and that to follow orders might one day save his life, or even all their lives when push came to shove.

Perhaps Dean going off to Florida wouldn't be such a bad thing. Without his brother to cosset him Sam might finally buckle down to doing things his way and grow up a little in the process. This move might prove to be the making of his little boy.

**o0o0o0o0o**

Mechanically Sam closed his math textbook and put his pen back into the shabby pencil case mentally counting backwards from ten for his dad to march in and tell him about this latest move.

True to form his dad made his appearance, "You heard all that right?"

Sam mutely nodded and John quickly added, "Good, go start packing. I'm aiming to be out of here by seven. We've got a long journey ahead of us."

Sam slowly stood letting the chair knock back against the wall and ignoring the scowl on his dad's face dared to ask, "I was thinking…. I could stay here and finish up the year. Dean won't be too far off being in Florida and I'm almost sixteen."

"So what part of packing up did you not hear here? You're coming to Wisconsin so get your sorry ass into gear and be ready by the time your brother gets back," snapped back John steeling himself for the fight to start in earnest.

Sam swallowed slowly as he saw the glint of anger surfacing in his father's eyes but still couldn't but help pursue the chance of staying put, "What about me staying with Aaron then? He wouldn't mind me crashing with him till the school year ends?"

Stabbing a finger at his youngest John shook his head emphatically, "Do I have to keep repeating the word 'No' here? Just for once it would be nice if you stopped trying to manipulate everything to your own goddam advantage."

John saw the flash of pain in his son's eyes but didn't ease up wanting him to realise that he had to learn to follow orders regardless, "Why do your stupid needs have to come above everything else in this family? School is school in whatever State you park your skinny butt in. Just pack your stuff and try and keep your goddam prissy moments to a minimum. I don't have time for your usual batch of tantrums."

For a brief moment he thought Sammy was going to carry on arguing but his youngest simply turned on his heals and the threatened confrontation fizzled out to nothing more than a slamming of a door.

More than a little surprised that his son was finally learning to take orders he was able to dismiss the haunted look in his youngest eyes and instead turned his attention on to the logistics of getting them to Baudette, Wisconsin.

**o0o0o0o0o**

By the time Sam had packed his duffle bag with his personal belongings and the few clothes that still fitted him after his latest growth spurt the urge to go out of the window and just keep on running took hold. Fingers pressed desperately up against the glass as he thought on his options and he realised that he really had none. There was never any choice when it came to what his dad wanted. None at all, and deep down he was starting to hate him for it.

Casting an eye around the room he sadly realised there was nothing in it now to ever indicate that he, Sam Winchester, had been there. He thought of Holly and looked down at his watch realising that he was supposed to have met her almost half an hour ago. He wasn't a total coward and wandered back out to the living room looking for the house phone only to realise that his dad still had it in the kitchen and knew better than to intrude.

On standing in the room he realised that his brother had already returned as Dean's voice held his attention and he took on board his excitement at the news that he was going to meet up with Caleb and head off to Florida.

Sucking in a long breath jealousy briefly reared its ugly head for Sam. Jealousy because of the fact that Dean had the right to freedom, the right to choose. It was a feeling soon squashed down though knowing that his brother had earned the right by being everything his dad had ever asked of him. A right he really doubted his dad would pass on to him.

Just for once his wished his voice counted for something with his dad like Dean's did but his words as always had fallen on deaf ears. Would it really have upset his plans if he stayed in California with Aaron? Deep down he knew his dad felt him a hindrance at times and was just being pig headed and stubborn because he had dared to speak out of turn.

Sam slumped back on the hard backed chair and picked up his pencil case shoving it into his bag. Pens and pencils would be always be needed and cost money to replace. As for the other textbooks laid in a symmetrical spill on the table his hand momentarily hovered over them before he swept them down into the wastepaper bin. The homework he had been doing for Math, Science and English were now more than a little redundant.

Sucking in a breath he wondered if he would have time to say his goodbye to Holly. Then the truth hit him that he really didn't have the courage to face her and see the disappointment his words would create. It was best just to leave and pretend that he had never met her. It was easier for him at least.

Pushing the duffle bag between his knees he waited in the dwindling twilight. It was something he was getting good at. Waiting for life to skip past him as his dad dictated.

After a few minutes he heard his name mentioned then the voices went low, tight whispers he couldn't make out and could only guess what was being said. No doubt his dad was voicing his unhappiness at having to play baby sitter without Dean in tow.

The phone rang suddenly and next his brother's voice was calling out for him. "Hey idiot brother of mine some chick on the line for you."

'Holly', realised Sam frozen to his chair not sure if he speak to her and face his own feelings.

Dean called out again striding into the living room not noticing him till he turned on the light and then threw him an irritated frown at being ignored, "Hey you deaf or something?"

"Or something," drawled back Sam without any enthusiasm.

Eying the miserable look on his brother's face Dean guessed that dad had been right again, that Sam was readying to kick up a fuss on having to leave California. He couldn't fault the kid for feeling the way he did as Santa Barbara had been a sweet gig. But that was all it was ever going to be and Sam was now trying to make them both look bad.

Slapping him lightly on the back of the head in a pre-emptive warning Dean dropped the phone into his brother's lap, "You better tie this one up quickly. Dad's readying to leave in five."

He expected some snide come back from Sam but there was none. Only the longest second before Sam picked up the phone and walked away back to his room, head held low refusing to make eye contact with him.

John watched from the kitchen doorway and Dean turned to throw him a questioning look. Sam's sudden lack of fire concerned him. Voicing his thoughts Dean dared to ask, "Look you sure about me going off to Florida? It's a long way to Minnesota with you two fighting all the way."

John shrugged, "I think I can manage a hormonally challenged fifteen year old on my own."

"Ya think?" Dean shook his head and wondered if his dad realised just how much interference he ran between the two of them at times. "This is Sam were talking about. If he puts a mind to it he can run rings around the devil himself…"

Seeing the worry on oldest son's face he patted his shoulder, "This will be good for him."

"I don't think he sees it quite like that. He's really settled in here. You'd have to be blind not to see that..."

John's scowl deepened not liking the implication that yet again he was a bad parent. It was bad enough getting that vibe off his youngest but to get it from Dean to didn't sit right. "You best watch your mouth."

Dean automatically nodded and spat out, "Yes sir."

John buoyed by his oldest immediate respectful response quickly added, "If you want to know the truth this move will give me a chance to knock back some of those soft edges you let him develop. A few weeks under my thumb and he'll be whipped back into shape."

Dean raised an eyebrow at the vehemence behind his dad's words. "I've had him training hard all summer long and the kid is in good shape."

John snorted out loud, "Depends on whose version of training you mark that by. You think I don't know that you've been letting him slack off with his buddies most afternoon to go surfing. And this girl that just called is just another distraction he can be doing without."

Ignoring his father's criticism best he could Dean countered, "Jesus he's fifteen. I'd be worried if he didn't have a girl tucked away somewhere. You rather he'd be hanging around with some of the other slackers at school drinking beer, doing drugs or worse?"

"He knows I'd kill him if he did any of that nonsense," answered John confidently.

As his father went to go back into the kitchen Dean wasn't prepared to let it rest. His dad had to see the changes in his brother for the positive things that they were. "You known different skills aren't necessarily bad. Have you seen that kid on a board dad? It's freaking amazing."

Not liking were this conversation was heading John snapped back, "Not gonna help him strip a Glock as good as you is it? He needs to get his head out of the clouds and back to the basics. If he spent half the energy he put into all that surfing crap then he might have done better this year in helping us out."

Dean's voice softened as he tried to plead his brother's case, "You have to give him something. He needs more…."

"That kid always needs something," muttered John back darkly his voice taking on a harder edge that made Dean visibly flinch. "It's about time he started pulling his weight rather than us having to drag him around. When you were his age you were more than ready to join me hunting, yet your brother practically sleeps walks through them. He's making it dangerous out there for us."

Dean sucked in a breath. This was the closest that he had ever gotten into having a full blown fight with his dad about is brother and it rattled him. Still the need to defend is brother persisted, "Hell you know at times Sam is a freaking walking talking encyclopaedia and he can research us both under the table. You know how smart he is."

"Yeah well if he put some of that so called smartness into something more important other than his social life then may be I might respect him a little bit better. The boy is damn useless at times, not worth a quarter of his weight in salt."

The words were out before he could call them back and John grimaced at noticing his youngest standing in the bedroom doorway. Eyes locked on him as his youngest absorbed his sharp words, eyes that were stripped of all emotion. His harsh words seemingly had travelled over him like a ripple of water barely touching the surface.

Dean saw his dad wince and was immediately alerted to his brother's presence. As he spun round to face him he could have cheerfully have strangled his dad for saying what he did and immediately tried to offset some of the damage done. "Like I was saying Sammy did real good this year…"

"Yeah. Right," responded Sam softly with a bitter smile as he picked up his duffle and swung it over his shoulder. He now knew exactly now what his father thought of him and it hurt so bad he could barely breathe but he wasn't going to let him see that. Throwing a quick glance at Dean he offered up, "See you around brother."

John shook his head as his son walked silently past him without even a flicker of recognition on his face. An angry verbal Sam was something he was used to do, was prepared to deal with. This new silent version unsettled him and he was left to wonder just when did his youngest get so good at shutting down like this?

"Dad this is all wrong," hissed back Dean as he watched his brother disappear from sight. "I'm gonna ring Caleb and tell him to hold off on this Florida gig for a while."

Gruffly John shook his head desperately trying to keep his guilt hidden at running off his mouth like that on his youngest, "No like I said me and your brother need some alone time together. It might make him act more responsible if your not there to cover his sorry ass all the time."

"That's my job remember?" spat back Dean readying to go off after his brother. "Can't you see that these last few months have been good for the kid? He's really grown up a lot already dad."

John stopped his son with a hard hand on his shoulder, "Not enough, he still has these stupid fantasies running about his head about school and stuff. It's got to change…he has to change."

"But dad…"

John tightened his grip and shook his head, "But nothing. Look it's a long way to Wisconsin and I will have sorted him out by the time we get there."

Dean looked up at him sharply already regretting to agree to stay behind and wait for Caleb. Florida suddenly seemed less attractive as he saw the determination on his dad's face and knew it meant only more trouble for his brother, "You know if you keep backing him into a corner you best be prepared for the fall out when he eventually explodes out of it."

John laughed uneasily at the imagery Dean was leaving him with. "Like I said I can handle your brother and all his little hissy fits."

Dean huffed at his words but knew that hell would sooner freeze over than hear his dad admit he was wrong. "I'll remind you of that when you get to Wisconsin and you're still licking your war wounds. You think Sam is soft but your wrong dad. Dead wrong."

He didn't wait for a response neatly stepping out of his dad's grip and headed for the truck where his much too silent little brother sat.

He leant into the open window and gave an apologetic grin, "Hey kiddo, about what dad said…"

"Nothing I haven't heard before," interjected Sam softly. He turned to look at his brother and offered up an apology, "I'm sorry you and dad got into one because of me."

"He didn't mean it. Dad just gets a little frustrated at times is all."

Sam turned his head away, "Because I'm not like you. That's why isn't it?"

The sound of the driver's door being opened stopped Dean's rebuttal as his dad slid into the cab. He locked eyes with him and saw how troubled his dad looked and then he turned back to his brother noting how purposely he was looking anywhere but at them.

This was going to be one hell of a road trip for them both he realised. His dad really had no idea how to treat his brother at times, that pushing Sammy only caused him to push back. One day his brother was going to push back so hard his dad was going to land on his butt hard to break his pelvis.

Ruffling his brother's unruly hair affectionately Dean offered up, "You just suck it up dude till I get back. I'll ring you later kiddo. Okay?"

"Yeah, whatever," Sam mustered back pulling away from his touch, all the while trying desperately to hide the fact that he was really going to miss his brother. It was another thing he was determined for his dad not to use against him.

John merely nodded a goodbye over to his oldest boy and started up the engine. Giving a quick glance over to his other son he pursed his lips, already feeling the chill in the air growing deeper.

As they left Dean's eyes travelled after them watching his family disappear from sight and he whispered out a small prayer, "You better look after him dad."

**o0o0o0o0o**

John had honestly thought that after a few hours Sam would have relented enough to try and speak to him but the silence in the truck was still oppressive. The over excitable chatty youngster that used to drive him too distraction with a bucket load of questions had mutated into this unnaturally quiet sullen teenager and he knew that he was the cause.

Holding in a sigh he turned on the radio allowing the noise to break up the silence noting how his son turned even further away in his seat to press his face up against the window. It was going to be long drive, over two thousand miles, and he wondered just how long Sam was going to freeze him out like this.

Not one to make the first move to break the impasse he grimly continued driving through the night putting as much distance between Sam and Santa Barbara as he could.

The words of his oldest earlier kept playing out in his head suggesting that the last few months had been good for Sammy. Dean was so clearly wrong as the opposite is what he saw now. The last four months had been bad for his youngest, offering up the unrealistic hope of normal allowing him to cultivate a softness that was too damn dangerous to ignore.

A softness that all those ugly supernatural freaks out there could exploit to hurt his boy time and time again. Best he took a tongue lashing or two from him and hardened up rather than getting it from the dark things out there that seem drawn to him at times.

For his own sake he had to break his son of all those stupid daydreams that he harboured or the whole point for them hunting would be lost.

At times he just couldn't understand his youngest boy, knowing there was a need in him that he could never meet. The unrealistic yearning for a white picket fence lifestyle that he had dared once to have with Mary now so alien to him.

Another hour passed and the radio had been turned into background noise as they sped along the highway before John finally took the chance to look at his sleeping son with a less judgemental eyes. Dean was right about one thing, his son had been transformed this summer, sprouting up to meet his brother's height and sporting a healthy golden tan that made him a picture of health.

As if aware of his scrutiny Sam muttered something under his breath and turned his body away, his long hair falling over half his face. Nervously John reached out a hand to brush it behind his ear, anxious for his touch not to rouse him and face the awkwardness that would come with his waking.

"Tomorrow you are going to have this cut," he murmured out softly. The too long hair was an open act of defiance that he has suffered all summer long. Again he looked at his son and despite his latest growth spurt he still looked frighteningly young as unguarded in sleep he was still his little boy.

Shaking his head John tried to stop the guilt flare up again inside him. He was doing all of this to keep his family whole he kept reminding himself. That meant that the little boy whose bright smile and happy nature he now sorely missed had to disappear. Those qualities in his boy were just too attractive to all those hateful things out there.

Missouri had hinted at it when Sam had been a mere toddler, taking him aside to say that _his_ boy showed _promise_. He had snorted out loud at that suggestion but had enough sense to leave before she could say more. Or make anything more of it frighteningly real for his family.

By the time Sam was a talkative four year old with his 'invisible friend' in tow he as was more than a little desperate to shutdown the lighthouse that his son apparently was. It wasn't until Elkins stepped in and cast a binding spell was his little boy supposedly safe again. Still years later the darkness kept nipping at their heels, chasing after his boy in all his ignorance and all he knew now was that he had to keep Mary's baby safe by exorcising the gift totally out of him.

"Sammy," he said softly over the holler of Metallica, "Why do you keep fighting me son? Why won't you just knuckle down and trust me to keep you safe?"

Fingers curled tighter around the steering wheel as once again his thoughts returned to his long dead wife knowing that it was too fucking hard at times to look at Sam and not see her staring back, see the natural gentleness she had possessed shine brightly out of him.

"God Mary, why does it have to be so hard to keep the bad things away from our baby?" he whispered softly his words still thankfully drowned out by the radio as Sam continued to sleep.

As his truck sped down the near empty highway his youngest whimpered suddenly in his sleep, the threat of a fresh nightmare on his lips that normally would be stilled by his brother's calming voice.

"Sshhh," John muttered softly, a hand resting on his son's shoulder for a brief second before Sam settled again. Smiling to himself at this small victory he suddenly felt more confident about getting his youngest turned around to be strong enough to battle all the supernatural stuff out there.

_What John Winchester had never appreciated in the fifteem years since his wife's murder that it wasn't just the unnatural forces out there that he had to be worried about. There was still a normal world out there populated with enough supposedly ordinary people to fly under his protective radar to leave his boy seriously vulnerable._

**TBC**

_Slow start I know but reviews or feedback as always devoured!_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Usual disclaimers apply! So a big fat WOW for all those totally unexpected but ego boosting reviews for the opening chapter, which hands up I confess I was very unsure about posting as I took Sam on a different path. I know I owe a bunch of you guys my personal thanks but I thought to get this second chapter out before replying individually or it might never see the light of day…**_

**Growing Pains**

**Chapter 2: A cold front approaches**

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

The last two thousand miles had been a test of wills for John Winchester and he hadn't liked it one little bit. The big freeze was well and truly on since leaving Santa Barbara and so far there was no signs of any thaw. He knew that he was responsible in part but he couldn't back down and let Sam win this battle. It just wouldn't be right, and more importantly it wouldn't help re-establish his control over his youngest.

Still the silent treatment he was getting from the boy really was starting to wear pretty thin. He was well and truly sick of hearing 'Yes Sir, No Sir' so neutrally expressed that the thought of strangling out a longer response from his stubborn son was not beyond a possibility now.

Sure Sam offered up the obligatory odd word when asked a direct question but that was it, nothing else passed his lips. No wise cracks, no sarcastic comments, no put downs, absolutely nothing that require any interaction. The usual questions, of where, how, or why there were travelling clear across the country just hadn't materialised and it frustrated the hell out of him.

Now as they sat in a less than stellar roadside diner before they started on the last leg of their trip he peeked over the top of his menu to catch a look at his strong willed son and his lips thinned in frustration. Sam's attention was elsewhere once again not on the menu, most certainly not on him or anyone else in the diner, as he stared dully out of the window.

The click of a pen by his ear caught John's attention and he threw a smile at the short thirty something waitress. The flash of dimples worked their usual magic and her podgy face softened as she leant closer in to pour him another coffee.

"So what will it be Mister?" she asked a smirk travelling over her glossed pink lips as she noticed John's glance settle on her ample bosom.

Suddenly aware of where his eyes had travelled too John coughed slightly eyes hurrying up to her face to offset any implied offence, "Um the special, meatloaf and mash potatoes. Good right?"

He searched her out for reassurance that he made the right choice and she winked back, "Sid's meatloaf is the best around for miles."

Turning her attention next to Sam she asked, "What about you sweetie? Meatloaf too?"

"Sam!" growled out John sharply when his son continued to stare out through the window oblivious to her presence.

Startled by the harsh undercurrent to his father's voice Sam snapped his head around and almost buried his nose into the waitress's abundant frontage.

Blushing furiously he pulled himself deeper into the booth furiously studying the menu in his hands as if it held the meaning of life itself, though the colour on his cheeks spoke of his embarrassment.

The waitress chuckled slightly and asked again after a few long seconds, "Okay then sonny, you want the special too?"

Sam shook his head as he put the menu back down the table and said between gritted teeth, "Grilled chicken salad ma'am."

"You want fries with that? How about some pie?" When Sam shook his head too quickly the waitress snuck a glance over to John and saw him shrug back his own surprise.

John dared to study his son as the waitress walked away lips thinning even further wondering just how badly his stay in Santa Barbara with all that new wave crap had affected him. They had spent a whole day on the road with out a break and all he wanted was a salad?

Truly the boy really was nothing like his brother when it came to his eating habits now as Dean would have ordered half the menu, the half of menu swimming in grease that is. A freaking chicken salad just kept on shoving that difference down his throat.

When their meals arrived they both continued to ignore each other, and John for his part had gotten used to eating in silence over the last few days not letting it affect his appetite in anyway.

In fact he was hungry enough after a long day of driving to think that the meatloaf surprisingly good and he followed it up with a large slice of pie. A few cups of coffee later he was ready to leave.

Glancing up from his journal John saw that Sam was only half way through the salad showing no intention of finishing any time soon. Huffing in annoyance he closed the journal he had been scribbling in, comparing notes with the various newspaper clippings and printed downloads, with a loud snap, "You finished up here?"

John could have sworn he heard Sam sigh softly before the ubiquitous words of "Yes, Sir," escaped his lips. His eyes darkened in irritation wondering for just how long this was going to go on and added sourly as he looked at Sam's half empty plate, "Well don't expect me stopping for anything else tonight. Clear?"

"Yes, Sir," answered Sam again flatly pushing the plate away and standing up to leave ignoring the waitress bright smile as she brushed past him.

John found himself grinding his teeth in annoyance as he gathered up his journal and various papers as he got up to use the washroom, only to pause as he threw over his shoulder, "Go wait by the truck."

This time Sam merely nodded his compliance and the silence hang heavy between them for a heartbeat before he did as ordered and left the diner without a backward glance to the waitress throwing him a bright smile or the scowl from his dad.

Rubbing a tired hand through his lanky hair John shook his head as he watched his son leave and wondered if Dean might have been right, that he should have canned the Florida job and came to Wisconsin with him, because right now he had no idea how to deal with Sam. No freaking idea at all. Other than throttle him may be.

He got it now, that his boy was mad at him, but unlike before when that would end up with them butting heads and Sam eventually backing down this time out it was like he was completely switched off from him. The icy front he was projecting was even more taxing than their usual verbal sparring matches.

When he came back from the washroom John paid the bill leaving the waitress a healthy tip. With a wide smile of appreciation she nodded over to the exit where Sam lounged outside against the truck before glancing back up at John. "Teenagers, uh? "

John shrugged back and honestly confessed, "That boy is going to drive me crazy or worse."

She laughed in complete understanding, "You think you have it bad. Trust me I have three girls at home and their cat fights are something else at times I can tell you."

Weakly John smiled back and took a long steadying breath before he dared face his youngest again. A hand on his shoulder made him pause to see a small takeaway container being offered to him. "My bet is that he'll want this later on…"

The smell of warm peach pie wafted up to him and smiled his appreciation at the matronly waitress. "Thanks. Its more than the ungrateful brat deserves though."

"Honey, they all go through it. This awkward stage. Not yet an adult but thinking they know everything. Right?"

John chuckled softly at the insight. "Oh yeah. Right." He gave her a thankful glance before asking, "You know of any cheap hotels around here. I don't think I'm up to driving through the night."

"Sure honey. Five miles down the road is the Starlight Motel. Cheap, nothing fancy but clean."

"Thanks," his eyes going back to the pie in his hand, "For the advice too."

"Yeah. That boy of yours looks like a good kid. Just give him time to come round is all."

At the mention of his son his head swung left to the exit where Sam had been standing only seconds before and was met with an empty space. Frowning he scanned the vacant parking lot and his stomach started to clench in fear all too aware of what his son being out there, out of sight and alone in the dark could mean.

He muttered under his breath and the waitress was immediately forgotten, 'Where the hell has he gotten to now?'

In two long strides he left the diner, the door slamming loudly before him he went into hunter mode. Masking his fear for his boy his eyes quickly scanned the area, his ears pricking alert at the sound of his son's voice drifting back over to him in the cold night air.

By the side of the diner John spied Sam who was crouched over petting a large dog. A large ugly brute of a dog that if he had a mind to could have torn Sam's arm from his shoulder off without any trouble at all. The fact that this dog was on his back having his tummy rubbed like some eight week old puppy was beside the point and John felt his blood pressure rising at the sight.

Hadn't he raised the boy to know better than to leave a safe place or to touch anything, any creature, that he didn't know the history of. Especially after night fall. That stupid dog whoring itself for a belly rub might have been a black dog for all the kid knew.

John swallowing back his immediate fears tersely called out, "Just what the hell are you doing boy? I told you to wait by the bloody truck not wander off like some idiot two year old who needs to be kept on a training lead."

Sam straightened quickly at the sharp reprimand and dog whimpered at the loss of contact, tail thumping loud on the ground and went to follow after him.

"Sorry Fido, gotta go," he whispered as he put up a restraining hand before he made his way back to the truck in a slow loping trot, mouth dry in anticipation at receiving another tongue-lashing to come.

He didn't have to wait long as John yanked open the driver's door and gave him a withering look, "If I say wait by the truck that is exactly what you do. You'd better start to follow orders, you hear me? Or so help me…"

Head still tucked down to his chest Sam gave an almost imperceptible nod and John growled out again, "I said did you hear me?"

Sam's head jerked up sharply and he looked directly into his dad's eyes as he spat out, "Sir. Yes, Sir. I hear you just fine. Follow orders. Got it."

"'Bout time," snapped back John, aware that this was the most his son had spoken in one sentence to him since leaving Santa Barbara and it still left him feeling dissatisfied, wanting the anger simmering inside his son to come out so at least they could face off against each other and get it over and done with.

For a moment he thought the threatened explosion Dean had warned him about was about to happen but just as quickly as the defiance sparkled in Sam's eyes the fire went out and he retreated back into his familiar shell of silence.

Hauling himself into the truck John watched as Sam positioned himself in his seat at an angle away from him and wondered what thoughts were racing through his teenage head. Why couldn't the boy just accept that this was going to be his life and stop the war raging inside him and let go of his fucked up ideal of a normal life he was clinging to?

Baudette was only a day away now and he just prayed that in the next few weeks Sam would settle under a clearly defined routine of training and following his instructions. May be by the time Dean returned the fantasy that his youngest kept clinging to would have finally been erased.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

The house was too damn quite without his brother around thought Dean as he supped his beer and walked out of the kitchen to an empty living room. After all those years of having his brother constantly around he was only now starting to realise just how Sam had filled a room with his own version of background noise, whether it was him just working at the desk or by just the simple act of breathing. Now missing that presence it made the place as creepy as hell, as if too many shadows filled the corners of the empty house.

Traipsing back into the living room Dean switched the television in an effort to distract himself from this unnatural silence and flopped down on the couch draining the last of his beer. Leaning over to throw the empty into the waste paper basket his fingers froze around the neck of the bottle as he spied his brother's discarded schoolbooks.

"What the hell?" he muttered in surprise and picked out the books remembering a time when they would have travelled with his brother regardless of their father's bitching about them taking up unnecessary room.

Dean knew why Sam did it, using them as an indicator to each new set of teachers that his last schools transcripts never quite covered. That he already knew half of the stuff they were trying to make him learn or that he already knew more than they could ever possibly teach him. Either way his baby brother was on the fast track to being labelled freaky smart.

Idly Dean flicked through the book in his hand noting with a twinge of pride at the usual words of praise his brother garnished. Then it hit him like a lead weight, that all of this was going to disappear if his dad got his way. Uber-geek little Sammy would be turned into just another bad ass hunter with nothing but the next job to live for and deep down that just didn't seem right.

Sucking in a tired breath Dean closed the book and lent past the bin to drop all three on the small wooden table not yet ready to lose that part of his brother that made him uniquely himself.

The need for another beer to wash down the bitter taste in his mouth took over and Dean walked back to the fridge all the while wondering just how his dad was going to cope with a seriously pissed off and hurting Sam on his own and vice versa.

Hooking eyes on the phone on the kitchen work surface he knew he had held off long enough. Picking up the phone rather than the second beer he realised he needed to find out whether what was left of his family had torn themselves to shreds or had managed to dance past the fire them that existed between and executed some form of truce.

After a few rings the familiar growl of his dad's voice came back, "Hey Dean. How's it going?"

"Okay, just thought I'd check in as I'm still waiting for that idiot Caleb to get here. Tight wad decided to take the bus in the end."

John chuckled aware of just how frugal Caleb could be at times. "Just make sure he gets the first round in son."

"Gotcha. So how's the overall blood loss looking like your end with you and Sammy? You have me as your first contact number don't you in case you need an emergency transfusion or anything, right?"

There came a back a derisory snort and John couldn't keep the amusement out of his voice, his oldest immediately lightning his mood that had been in a dark funk all day having been stuck in the truck with his brooding younger son, "So far no transfusions needed."

"So the little geek is doing okay then? Is he talking to you yet?"

Turning his head towards where Sam slept on the other side of the shabby motel room John confessed, "Nope, he's still sulking."

Dean winced knowing that a mad Sam could be as prickly as a cactus and felt more than a little sorry for his dad, "So let me speak to him and may be he will stop the whole I'm-a-brat routine."

"No, he's sleeping. Besides like I said I have to sort this out." He took a sip of the whiskey in his hand and admitted in a hoarse whisper, "I said some things that were hard for him to hear in Santa Barbara. Doesn't mean that he doesn't need to hear them, just maybe they came out a little wrong."

"I heard them remember? Just don't let it fester with him dad or you might well find out what Sam-the-Terrible is really all about. May be a bit more encouragement rather than ordering him around might work better with the kid?"

"You and your 'stick versus carrot' theory. The brother of yours still needs to follow orders, my directions without questioning everything," sighed John in return knowing that his oldest boy had this unique knack of dealing with Sam that he just didn't have a handle on, it was just hard to admit it out loud.

"Hey if the whole carrot trick works what harm is there in trying it," offered back Dean, feeling a little happier that his dad seemed to be softening and that may be going to Florida wouldn't be such a bad move after all.

There was a knock at the door and Deans' face split in to a wide grin, "Hey dad sounds like that retard friend of yours has finally found his way here. Gotta go, but say Hi to Sammy for me and that maybe I'll catch up with you both tomorrow."

"Yeah okay. Say hello to Caleb for me. Bye son."

John put the phone back in his pocket and knocked back the rest of the whiskey in his glass and held it in his mouth. His gums tingled as he swished it around and the under side of his tongue burned before he relented and swallowed down the fiery liquid.

He eyed the now half empty bottle and studiously put back the cap, letting it sit by the bedside table. The thought of driving tomorrow morning with a hangover didn't appeal to him at all, especially with his son still brooding by his side.

Mulling over Dean's words of advice he shook his head, his mouth a tightly drawn line as he looked over at youngest son.

Again sleep stripped his son bare of any pretence or defence. Gone was the defiance on his face, his long lashes fluttering on his cheeks hiding the puppy dog blue-green eyes that could so expressively offer up a world of hurt and shred him to pieces at twenty yards.

All he could see now was his child. A child too damn sensitive to survive in the world they travelled in and he had to burn that weakness out of him. Hunting the things they did wasn't a game to be played at like Sam seemed to think, to be put aside at will for some fancy books or high scores, and the sooner the boy learnt this the better.

"Mary forgive me honey…." John stuttered out, blinking back a rush of tears, "God girl you know I have to break him to keep him by side, or there will be no way of protecting him."

Ignoring his own decision of earlier he reached back hurriedly for the bottle of whiskey and took a long hard swig hoping to erase the constant memory of her terrified eyes bearing down on him from that burning ceiling so many years ago.

The whiskey had its effect, easing the tightness in his throat and chest as he turned his attention back to his sleeping son and Dean's words of wisdom only made him hate himself even more.

"Nope son, no fucking carrot this time out," John growled out to the four walls as he poured out a long shot of whiskey in the glass. Saluting the empty air he added softly, "I will not let that bastard win."

Supping the brown liquid in long drags he leant back against the headboard, the alcohol doing its usual work as the pain in his heart lessened as to did his vision and the dark worries he had for his boy started to blur with other thoughts, other memories.

Playing in habit with his wedding band his head started to droop falling eventually to his chest as the exhaustion of the last few days took hold along with the effects of the alcohol pulling him under to a restless dream.

It was the sound of his snoring growing ever louder that roused his son not that John noticed him waking.

For all his years of hunting, with skills honed both in the marines and the dark world of the supernatural, he didn't hear his son get up, didn't feel the glass being taken from his lax fingers and the covers drawn up over him. Nor did he hear the soft fall of feet on bare floor as Sam walked over to the bathroom to empty the left over whiskey down the sink. He rinsed out the glass and filled it with water before returning it to the bedside cabinet. Ready for the morning when his dad would need it to wet back the dryness on his tongue.

His dad turned onto his side and the snoring stopped and Sam offered up a prayer of small thanks. He was about to try and get some more sleep himself when his dad muttered out a familiar name under his breath and his heart froze. It hurt to hear him calling out for his mother with such pain in his voice knowing that in some part he was the cause for some of it.

"I'm sorry you lost her," offered up Sam sadly as he put the near empty whiskey bottle back into the bag and zipped it up not wanting it to be another reminder for his father in the morning.

As he watched his father fall into a deeper sleep frustration and guilt ate away at him, wondering why he couldn't be more like Dean to make the man happy and stop the need inside of himself from winning out.

Eyes stung with unshed tears all too aware that he would never be the son he would ever be proud of. Dean already had that mantle and all dad wanted now was a poor second copy. "I can't be him dad," he whispered desperately. "I try so goddam hard and it's just not possible."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

The moment Caleb had knocked on Dean's doorstep the evening had gone by in a blur. Bags chucked into the living room Dean had literally frog marched him down the road to a noisy smoke filled bar to play catch up among other things.

Now a few hours along and too many beers to count Caleb blue eyes twinkled in amusement as he watched Dean charm his way around the once wary bargirl, slipping her his number and a promise of a night ahead that brought a wide smile of anticipation to both their faces.

"God man you are such two-bit whore," he muttered under his breath as Dean returned with two bottles and a cheesy smile.

"Jealous much are we?" queried Dean slapping a bottle down on the table in front of Caleb's nose. "Why waste the opportunity man? Once we get to Florida fun time will be put on hold and you know it."

"One day you are going to catch something unnatural I swear…"

"Bite me," growled back Dean eyes tracking after the pretty blond throwing him backward glances as he mimed a number and pointed to his watch. "Look dude, you've been around Pastor Jim too long. Me? I intend to live life a little and have some fun. And if that pretty young thing Saffron wants to help me along with that plan who am I to say no?"

"Saffron? I bet her real name's Sue. What is it with California and these wannabe actresses!" chuckled Caleb before adding teasingly as he clocked Dean looking back over to the now very eager waitress, "Like I said to your dad you could never keep it in your pants."

Dean shuddered at the revelation and punched Caleb on the arm in disgust, "Dude that's just gross, discussing my sex life with my dad. It's just plain gross."

Caleb smirked, "You prude. What are you going to do when its little Sammy starts up and gets all hot and steamy with some pretty young thing."

Dean chuckled, "Yeah well that may already have happened. The boy got himself a girl this summer. Never met her but they seemed pretty close by all accounts."

"The kid kept you off his radar didn't he?" Caleb laughed at the sour look on Dean's face, "Man that boy is going to grow up even more devious than you if he keeps this up."

"Yeah well that girl whoever her name was is now history. Sam will soon learn to love and leave them in the good old Winchester tradition."

Doubting that was possible Caleb leant back and shook his head, "You think Sam can do that? Just give up on everything, everyone he grows attached to so easily?"

Dean took in a long breath and threw him a false smile, "If my dad has any say in the matter he will soon learn how to. It's the reason he took him to Wisconsin. He thinks I let him get too soft here and may be he was right."

Caleb looked away wondering at how different two brothers could be and still have total devotion for each other. "Speaking of Wisconsin it sounds like a pretty heavy job they've lined up there. How far away is he now?"

His smile fading Dean took a quick sip of his beer to wet his suddenly dry throat, "A day out max."

Caleb shrugged noting the change in the man in front of him, guessing where his head was at right now and dared to voice his opinion. "The thing he and Jim is chasing down isn't some simple salt and burning. A demon is a tricky bastard at the best of times."

"My dad knows how to handle himself," snapped back Dean defensively. "He's the best at what he does and don't you ever forget that."

Caleb aware how volatile Dean could be when it came to his family and any hint of criticism tried to soften his approach, "Yeah man I know. I'm just surprised you let him take Sam with him. A demon can screw with the best of us but a kid like Sammy…."

Dean eyed his bottle as he broke in. "You think I don't know that. If I had I had gone with them to Wisconsin I would have made sure Sam was kept out of it all."

Feeling more than a pang of guilt that he taken Dean away from looking after his brother he offered up a quick solution, "Dean if you still want to go don't let me hold you to this job. That fugly creature will still be there in another month or two."

"Naw, I signed up for this knowing how it was all going to play out. Besides I've got it covered as I've already called Jim."

Caleb grinned brightly at the revelation. "I bet he wasn't to impressed with your dad taking Sam along for the ride alone on this one."

"Yeah, something like that. Anyways the understanding is that no matter what my dad might think my little brother isn't to be involved in any shape or form on this hunt. Baudette is far away enough from the demon they are hunting for Sammy to stay safe."

"And does your dad know any of this?" asked Caleb with a growing smile of admiration for his young friend.

Dean jerked his head up and with a slow grin confessed, "Hell no. You think I'm stupid or something?"

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Pastor Jim led the vanguard as they sped along the highway to the outskirts of Baudette. John Winchester had finally made it across the various state lines to get to him and now was just tired enough to trail after him to the house set aside for them in the backwaters of Baudette.

Aubrey Leeson, a fellow hunter almost as passionate about hunting as John was had offered up a place for the Winchesters to crash in as his uncle's house had been left empty since his death two winters back.

Following the directions that Aubrey had given him they wound their way through the central part of Baudette along to the thinly populated outskirts of town. Jim though had to finally admit to himnself that he was lost when nothing on the hastily drawn map on the back of napkin made any sense.

The welcome sight of an old gas station and small convenience store, that seemed to mark the end of civilisation as was known to Baudette, was a welcome sight. Telling John Winchester that he had gotten them all lost was just too embarrassing to think about.

The gas pump attendant, a short thin woman quickly pointed out the way, and Jim could breathe easy again as it was just a mile or so ahead and he left John wait impatiently in his truck as he headed over to the little store.

As he walked into the store he smiled to himself at is quaintness and quickly filled a basket with some basic provisions that he knew John would have been to preoccupied to think about getting.

When he got to the checkout the large jovial owner quickly bagged up the items. "You got me just as I was about to close up Father. We're not like some of those fancy stores open 24-7. Close up at around nine with the late nights drawing in and all."

Jim realising he was still wearing his collar fingered is self-consciously as he nodded a greeting in return handing over enough money to cover the bill, "That's good to know. I'll let my friend know."

The man pleased of an audience continued to babble on, "Like I say we open again at seven in the morning. My wife Celia does the early shift most days and I tend to do the late shift. Though we're both pitching in to night as my niece is rehearsing for some school play she's in."

The shopkeeper looked out at the truck seeing the man and young boy inside. "New neighbours I hope. It will be good to have fresh blood in this place. Keeps a nice friendly community like this alive Father."

"I'm sure it does," answered Jim as evasively as he could praying that man better not be fool enough to turn up on John Winchester's doorstep with his wife in tow uninvited with a basket full of freshly cooked muffins as a welcoming gift.

A loud honk of the truck horn made John's presence felt and Jim grimaced. "It's been a long day and he's anxious to get them settled so I best be going…"

Handing back his change the storekeeper winked warmly up at Jim, "Well you tell your friend not to be strangers you hear. He's welcome to stop by anytime - tell him not to be shy." He stuck out a hand which Jim felt obliged to shake, "The names Burnett, Ted Burnett."

"Thank you Mr Burnett, I'm sure you will make them feel most welcome," answered Jim anxious to make his exit.

Having made his escape Jim led the way along the road speeding past a loose scattering of houses before heading up a small tree lined hill. Half a mile up he turned into an almost invisible turning and fifty yards down the muddy lane drew to halt in front of Leeson's dead uncle's house.

John's truck pulled up behind Jim's 4 x 4 the beam of the headlights picked out the house and all three pairs of eyes grew wide at the sight of the ramshackle property before them.

Sam's mouth fell open in clear disgust before he snapped it shut with a small huff of disbelief. In the dark it looked almost derelict and he wondered just how much worse it would look in the cold harsh light of day. Truly the place had to be top on his list of all time dumps. And he had known his fair share of them in the past to offer up a sound judgement here.

The urge to tell his dad exactly that was burning on the tip of his tongue but the words remained unsaid. His top lip lifted instead in a sneer to voice his disgust; openly resentful that he had been forced to leave a good life in Santa Barbara for this pile of crap.

John caught the undisguised look of repugnance on his son's face and had to mask his own feelings of shock. Jim had warned that the place was a little run down, the place not being used for a long time, but by the looks of things it was nearer to falling down on them rather than offering a roof over their heads.

The only bonus was the house was in the right locale, away from town, with enough land around it for them to keep their privacy and their movements secret. Town folk poking their noses in on their business always caused too many problems for his liking. At least this far out he could get Sam's shooting skills sharpened without some old dear wondering what they were firing at.

Jim had gotten out of his car and headed for John's side of the truck an apologetic look on his face. "Sorry Johnny, like Aubrey warned this place hasn't been touched in over a year and he was a bit was a little light on details. It looks a hell of a mess, you want to go back into to town and look around for something else?"

'_For Samuel's sake_', he wanted to add but knew better picking up the still unsettling vibes coming from both Winchesters. The war of personalities that the two had been on for the last year now at escalation point he had guessed.

"It will do," came back John evenly as he got out of the truck to inspect it up close and personal, a hand resting on the loose handrail that led up the steps to the front door. As the wood wobbled at his touch he added, "Besides it will give the boy something to do out side of school when he's not training."

Jim cocked an eyebrow and looked quickly over to Sam and took in his stony expression. His normally expressive face was unreadable and he was left to wonder again just what was going on with him and his father that left him so unnaturally verbally challenged.

Sam for his part didn't even acknowledge Jim's concerned look as he got out the truck clearly intent on ignoring his dad's jibe and headed over to the house. Brushing past the two hunters he jumped lightly over the broken wooden steps and pushed open the door that creaked open on rusted hinges.

As he entered the house the smell of mildew filled his nostrils and he dropped his duffle bag with a loud thunk to the floor not caring that the Pastor was behind him as he said, "Welcome to Fucksville, Wisconsin and another chapter of my seriously crappy life."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

John shifted uncomfortably in the high backed chair, not liking the way the Vice Principal kept glancing up from the transcript in his hand to him and then at Sam, as if hardly believing that what he was seeing and reading really married up.

Holding his irritation in check he was just thankful that Dean had gotten Sam's school records faxed across from Santa Barbara as he really wasn't prepared to answer a hundred questions about his youngest academic record.

It had been a long time since he had to deal with such a bureaucratic jack ass like the man in front of him and he wondered just how much longer he would be able to hold in his temper.

Starling flicked over to the last page and his eyebrow raised to his forehead as he read the final summation before a smile softened his thin features on realising that they had scored a winner with the boy sitting before him. Samuel Winchester would really help push up their SATS performance if they kept him on their books.

John checked his watch again and glowered back at the man, his foot starting to tap out his impatience. Just how long did it take to sign a few forms before he could off load his son for the day, for the rest of the week. "Mr Sterling if you don't mind I have a job to go to. How much longer is this going to take?"

"Starling, Mr Winchester, Percival Starling the Third," corrected the Vice Principal as he finally put down Sam's records and threw a tight smile at John. "I can appreciate that you need to get going. I just want to say it is a real pleasure to have Samuel come join our ranks. We will try to keep him as best possible on the accelerated learning programme he was on at his old school. If you feel though that we are not meeting his special needs please do not hesitate to speak to me directly."

"Yeah, that's all good," mustered back John absently and Sam squirmed uncomfortably in his seat realising that his dad had already switched off after hearing the opening remark about being able to go.

Starling sensed the same, that the man in front of him was already mentally half way out of the school, quickly ended the torture for all three of them, "So Mr Winchester I think you can safely leave Samuel here with us. All you need you to do is sign a few forms and fill out a few more details with Mrs Muncey in the admissions office. She will go over with you what Sam will need to bring for each class to cover the curriculum and then you can be on your way."

"Good, glad that's sorted out," snapped out John as he got quickly to his feet and took the offered hand of the Vice Principal with a hard shake before turning to his son. "I'll pick you up later. If I'm late go wait in the library. You understand?"

"Yes Sir," drawled back Sam, head down as he found inspecting the frayed edges of his sneakers far more enjoyable than engaging in eye contact with his dad.

John paused by the doorway as if to say something more but instead shook his head and left without any further goodbyes.

Mr Starling watched him leave with a frown wondering what had been left unsaid as his eyes travelled back to the tall boy with the golden tan that judging by his baggy clothing and too long hair was going to stand out like a sore thumb in the small school built on a major capital C of conservatism.

Walking out from behind his large oak desk he indicated for Sam to go ahead of him as he took him along to meet his new English teacher. Not wanting to judge him on his first impression he tried to get this across to the boy, "So Samuel I hope you enjoy your time at Lincoln High. It is one of the better, if not the best schools, in the district. We hold to very high standards here which we expect all our students to meet"

"It's Sam sir, and I know all about Lincoln High, my brother had you all checked out before I got here," answered Sam coolly not at all intimidated walking with the Vice Principal having met and dealt with so many in the past.

"Well that's good to hear, as you undoubtedly know from having moved school so often just how important it is to fit in quickly with the established routine."

"Oh yeah I know all about having to sticking to the established routine, believe me," answered Sam cryptically before adding further insight, "My dad just lives and breathes for routine."

**0o0o0o0o0o**

John Winchester turned up two hours late for picking up his son wondering just what he could offer up as an excuse and found none that didnt sound lame to his own ears. His meeting with Aubrey Leeson two towns over had taken longer than expected and the time had flown by till he had found himself tearing himself back to the centre of Baudette like a bat out of hell.

Sam didn't even seemed fazed by his late appearance sitting quietly at the back of the library nose buried in book, hardly offering him a glance as he drew up by his chair.

"Sam, I…" he caught the steely look in his son's eyes and gave up any pretence of an apology, "Just get your stuff together so we can get going."

"Here," said Sam so softly John almost didn't hear him as a piece of paper was shoved into his hand.

"What's this?" asked John eyeing the list in front of him with suspicion.

For the first time in almost a week he was forced to speak directly to his father and the words stuck in his throat, hating to have to ask him for anything right now, " It's a list of stuff that's needed for school. I've highlighted the things I don't have."

John snorted out his annoyance as he looked at the list, "What the hell do you need a scientific calculator for. Don't you have one already?"

"Dean tried to make his own EMF out of the last one."

John's eyes narrowed further his finger snapping against one particular item on the list in disbelief, "You have got to be yanking my shorts here. How much for a new P.E. kit? What's wrong with just a pair of shorts and T-shirt."

"School rules, they give you two weeks to get it sorted before they start handing out detentions," muttered back Sam equally unhappily at his father's outrage.

Normally this whole moving to a new school and the knock on effect that went with it was something his brother dealt with. Dean would have just taken the list, shook his head once or twice, mouthed the odd obscenity before throwing him a cocky smile to tell him that it was all doable. And somehow he always did. He had the sinking feeling that this wasn't going to happen this time out, not with his dad already caught up in researching his latest hunt.

John shoved the list into his jean pocket cussing under his breath as he started up the engine, "I don't have time for this crap, it will have to wait until the weekend. The school and all it petty little rules can get stuffed till then."

"Yes sir," answered Sam glumly, not even bothering to ask if he could get some new boots and a warmer jacket as the weather in Wisconsin was really starting to make itself felt.

His time for asking for anything personal from his dad were long over as his remarks about 'always needing something' still stung deep.

He was as much a Winchester when it came to be stubborn as he was and could suck it up till Dean turned up again and he could snag half of his wardrobe off him.

**o0o0o0o0o**

It was almost two whole weeks since starting at Lincoln High and still Sam was no nearer to fitting in as he had been on his first day, not that he cared any and sure as hell no nearer to getting anything on the list he had given his dad on his first day at school. In appearance his tan may have started to fade as the weather got colder but his clothes still screamed outsider with his ripped jeans and thin layers of multiple shirts he wore to keep the chill at bay.

Each morning he jogged the mile and half from the house to the gas station to wait with infinite patience for the school bus as Nancy Burnett, the green thirteen year old niece of Ted and Celia Burnett, threatened to chew his ears off with her endless chatter. It didn't matter what the weather was like she had taken to waiting for him, her thin features coming alive as he came to halt to stand by her side.

Her crush on him was sweet in a way and he tried to be as gentle with her as possible about it, the bigger older brother mode he had learnt from Dean coming into play. Each time he was asked to get groceries by his dad from her uncle's store he would find a either a Hershey bar or Twinkies stashed secretly inside and it was a testament to the teachings he had gotten from Dean that he never tried to embarrass her for it. Instead he would take his special treat and share half with her during their lunch break the next day.

Their odd friendship didn't go unnoticed by some of the more spiteful girls in his year who had taken to resenting him for his coldness to them as he knocked back their personal invites. Just why he would hang out with a loser like a little-miss-nobody like Nancy Burnett when he had been offered a pass into their tight enclave of popularity was a mystery to them.

It was a slight that manifested itself like venom to be fed to some easily manipulated jocks who thought it suddenly their job to teach this upstart Winchester dude a lesson or two.

Their big mistake was using Nancy as a lure, her terror palpable as they threatened her and Sam with violence. The sight of the clearly petrified girl was too much for Sam to ignore or forgive and he took out the first guy with a sharp right hook that broke his nose followed by a well aimed kick to the groin which left him rolling incoherently on the locker room floor.

Snaking out a long arm he pulled Nancy away from the two other students who growled their anger at him but had enough sense to keep their distance still trying to suss out just how on earth Carl had been taken down so quickly.

Sam threw the girl a crooked smile of reassurance, "Its okay Nancy. Just pick up your bag and wait outside while I have a little word with these losers why it isn't done to make a nice girl cry."

Vice Principal Starling only heard the rumour as nothing could be proven but the gossip persisted that his newest and brightest pupil had gotten into it with three of Coach Enders best athletes and had come out of it with only some scraped knuckles. Stu Marshall, Harry Fields and Carl O'Brien on the other hand had faces like meat patties and the indents on the sport room lockers seemed to bear testament that Sam Winchester had slam dunked them personally one at a time head first into them.

To say that Coach Enders was not best pleased would have been an understatement but secretly Percival Starling felt a thrill deep down inside that at long last the three bullies had met their match. He had just never expected it would be from the kid from California with the soft smile and easy gentle manner about him. From now he was determined to keep a keener eye open for his latest protégée.

Sam Winchester was a boy to watch.

**0o0o0o0o0o**

Nancy whimpered as the large hand was raised again to strike and she ducked her arms over her head begging for some restraint, "I'm sorry uncle Teddy. I promise I won't do it again."

Celia hovered in fear by her niece trying to defend her best she could. "She didn't mean it honey. She just liked the lad."

"I don't work all day long for this little bitch to give my stuff away for nothing."

"She'll make it up, I promise," answered Celia quickly snaking down a hand to pull up her niece to her feet. Shoving her behind her she tried to shoo her silently away but Nancy was too terrified to move without her uncle's permission.

Stabbing a warning finger at her he spat out, "Your to stay away from him you hear me. If I catch you sniffing after that Winchester boy ever again I will take my belt to you."

"Yes uncle," sobbed Nancy finally taking her opportunity to run back to her room and escape the noise of her aunt Celia taking the beating that was meant for her.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Sam pulled his rucksack from his shoulders and dumped it on the floor inside of the door, waiting for yet again his father's daily list of instructions to be shoved in his hand. He could just guess what was to come.

_Chop more wood for the stove, check the holes in the roof and fix them, do a zilllion press ups before running a mini marathon around the grounds till your feet blister before cooking supper with the magical ingredients of what dared to harbour itself at the back of the cupboards all still sweeping the floor with a broom up my ass. Yeah all so totally fucking doable. _

Instead of the usual list of chores he was met by the blistering stare of his dad waiting impatiently by the kitchen sink, "Where the hell have you been? I've been readying to leave for the last hour."

"School bus broke down. Walked home."

"Didn't think of running?" spat out John, wincingly inwardly at the unnecessary harshness to his tone.

"Didn't want to wear out the rubber on the souls of my shoes," snapped back Sam equally as sharp. It had been a long day and the six mile walk back home hadn't helped his mood.

Sam saw his dads' large holdall on the table and realised he was going to take off. John saw were his son's eyes had travelled to and quickly offered up an explanation. "The thing we're hunting has moved we think three towns down. I'm off for a few days to try and track its new base.

Sam merely shrugged and John continued. "I'll be gone a few days. Back by the midweek or the weekend tops but Joshua is going to come by tomorrow. Just don't give him any of your usual crap."

The two Winchesters stood in awkward silence before John snagged up his bag, "I've left you some money for any emergencies but I want receipts for everything. I don't want you thinking this is some sort of a vacation. Keep up with your schedule and don't you dare think of slacking off or causing me any headaches. You understand me?"

"Undoubtedly, Sir," growled back Sam masking his delight. With his dad gone for a few days he could breathe easier again. Screw the fucking schedule.

**0o0o0o0o0o**

Ted Burnett watched in delight on spying the holdall in the back of the truck as John Winchester filled up on gas. He would have to wait and see but somehow he had the distinct feeling that the man was upping for a longish trip. A longish trip away from home leaving his boy behind, a situation he would just have to monitor and see what happened next.

TBC 

_Well I really wanted to stop at least five pages back but dang fingers just kept spewing out the words! _


	3. Chapter 3

_**All disclaimers apply - before I add that Real life has been major crazy and yet again I've not been able to say my personal thanks for all those very supportive reviews. Again this is a slow chapter building up to the whumpage to come! Hope you can stick with it and to let me know your thoughts, which I promise to get back to you about a-sap! Again all stupid mistakes are mine. Rozzy.**_

**Growing Pains**

**Chapter 3: Truth and Lies**

Pastor Jim checked his watch and took another sip of his now lukewarm coffee. John was late and for that he was grateful as it meant that he had stayed back long enough for his son to come home not to an empty house and a scribbled note of explanation.

The scoring beam of a trucks headlights pulling into a parking bay caught his attention and he watched John jump out of his truck heading directly for the diner. Jim felt himself immediately relax on seeing him alone and beckoned over to the waitress, "Two more coffees please."

John entered the diner with nod of silent greeting, sliding into the booth before taking the fresh coffee with a small grin of gratitude.

Jim waited for him to settle before asking, "You get hold of Joshua okay?"

"Yeah he'll head by tomorrow to keep an eye on Sam, not that he really needs it," sighed John adding a little dejectedly, "You should have seen it Jim, the boy could barely contain his delight at getting rid of me for a few days."

Aware of the ill feeling still festering between them Jim added sadly, "Samuel is still very much a child John no matter how tall he gets or how you treat him. I just wish we had been able to get Joshua to get here sooner. Leeson's place is so far away from town."

Ignoring his friend's concerns John shrugged, "You worry too much old man. The house has enough protection carved into its wall and ceilings to keep the devil himself out. Besides despite all his protestations Sam's been raised a Winchester and will do just fine for one night."

Jim with a wry smile confessed, "Suppose I still see that little toddler who would hug his brother near to death if a window rattled at night."

John glared at him in open disbelief and spat out, "Look Jim, I left him in Baudette at your insistence so why all the hand wringing now? Sam is not hunting just like you wanted."

Jim shot him a purposeful look as he responded equally as passionate, "For that Johnny I am grateful. The darkness destroys innocence whatever chance it gets. The child need not be exposed to such evil unnecessarily."

"Bringing him along might have given him the chance to appreciate what we actually do and take on a bit more responsibility," snapped back John getting more and more irritated by having his parenting of his boys questioned so openly, "You know Dean managed just fine at his age."

Jim's blue eyes darkened as he gruffly responded, "You think it has not left it marks on your oldest John, this life you led him into?"

"Don't you dare judge me on how I raised my boys. I did what I thought best and kept them safe," growled John in a warning.

Shaking his head Jim took in a calming breath before adding softly, "All I'm saying you might want to remember that Sam is still only fifteen. Why don't you take him fishing or something when this job is finished? You two stuck on lake waiting for a bite on a line might make it easier for you to talk to each other."

John grimaced at the suggestion, "He had the chance to say something all the way from California and the silence was deafening. Believe me I don't think a little bit of fishing is going to loosen his tongue. The boy has 'stubborn' tattooed on his ass."

"Not unlike some other Winchester I happen to know then."

A flicker of annoyance marked John's face at the suggestion before he dismissed any thoughts of his relationship with his youngest and instead redirected his attention back to the business at hand, "Look lets get back to why I drove over here. You sure this time out that we have this demon cornered? That it won't just slip away like last time?"

Jim knew that Sam was now off topic and sadly shook his head before responding, "As sure as you can be anything involving the likes of this."

John smirked back at his old friend. "Must really piss you off the way it targets its hosts. It might not be safe for you to keep wearing that collar Pastor if you get my drift?"

"The beast seeks to corrupt the righteous."

John shrugged draining the last of his coffee before adding, "I think it just gets its kicks from inhabiting you so-called men of god."

Jim scowled back aware that his friend was yanking his chain, "That may be so but at least now we know what to look for in a crowd of people. The demon is now in Minister Fredericks, a good man by all accounts, using his voice to stir up hatred and sow fear in people easily swayed."

"Yeah got the picture, fanning the flames of discord and all that…" muttered back John darkly. "The bastard really does know how to work an audience if he's caused trouble so quickly."

"Yep. Thank the lord its early days here and we have time to do some damage control. Pity we didn't get a chance to get rid of him in Cedar Creek. Still we've struck lucky as Aubrey knows the local sheriff really well."

John growled out his dislike at the suggestion, "The freaking law Jim? Last thing we need is their involvement."

"Sheriff McCall is different. He knew Aubrey's uncle and even did the odd bit of hunting with him as a teenager. He knows what to expect and believe me is less than happy at having a demon come into his town. Pastor Frederick were, are personal friend I hear."

Soaking in this newest information John slowly nodded, "So we use this Sheriff to get the demon to come to us. You have a locale for that to happen? Or is Aubrey still scouting that out."

"Not exactly. You remember Jeb Murdoch?" asked Jim cryptically.

John's expression soured, "Yeah I know him, not exactly the brightest hunter out there. What's he got to do with things here?"

"Apparently he and his son were given a heads up about this demon and took it upon themselves to get involved. I believe that's why the demon moved on so quickly from Cedar Creek before we could stop it."

John snorted his disgust, "Sounds about right. Jeb has about as much finesse as a fucking bull in a china shop. So he screws things up and we have to sort out the mess. The man is a freaking idiot and a danger to us all. I don't want him involved in this."

"Bit too late for that John. Besides we can use the Murdochs to our own advantage this time around. The demon will not be happy to see them turn up again and take the risk of having his plans spoiled so early on in the game. My reckoning is that he will want to eliminate his problem with the Murdochs as soon as possible."

John shook his head, "Jeb isn't exactly going to go knocking on the front door of the church to announce his presence is he? We all know that this particular demon cannot be taken out of the place it binds itself to."

The pastor glanced at his watch and threw John a playful smile, "If it can be lured away from the church then we have a chance to get it out of Fredericks and send it back to hell."

"You're gonna need a freaking huge decoy." John paused on noting how Jim smile only grew bigger. "Okay you old goat, you know something. Best spit it out before you choke on it."

Jim's grin was even wider before he answered, "You know news gets out pretty fast in a small community like Eagles Falls. We're going to let good old fashioned word of mouth work its magic to get the demon to come to us."

"Gossip?" John shrugged his disbelief. "You're kidding right?"

"Oh believe me this little titbit of gossip will bring the demon out." Jim glanced once more at his watch and smirked, "As we speak Sheriff Adams and his deputies should be picking up Jeb and his boy for illegal firearms possession. They'll be cooling their heals locked up in county for a good few days and during that time I expect the demon will want to pay them a little visit."

John face softened into an appreciative grin, "You know Jim for a man of god you are down right devious at times."

"Just doing the lords work is all." beamed back Jim as he finished his own coffee. "By the time we get to Eagle River the sheriff's office will have been nicely decorated by Aubrey and all we have to do is wait."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

As the night closed in and the deep boom of thunder in the distance crept closer the euphoria of having his dad gone for a few days had died down. It was unsettling left alone to wonder why after all these weeks of heavy training his dad had just upped and left him behind instead of taking him on this all important hunt.

For sure if it had been Dean at his age his dad would have taken him along to ride shotgun, but he guessed his dad now had so little faith in him it was just easier for him to be left behind.

'Your not worth a bag of salt you idiot,' he reminded himself sadly as he looked out of the kitchen window into the pitch black of night.

The rain smacked hard on the glass, threatening to turn to hail as the temperature dropped and the winds picked up.

The glass in the frame rattled and a puff of air stole a path under the window frame and through the line of salt on the windowsill. Sucking in a weary breath at the sight Sam knew he would have to check each window and make them draught proof. His dad would tear strips off him if he came back and found the salt lines broken.

He started with his room, ripping up an old sheet and jammed the pieces of cloth it into the edges of the frame before reapplying the salt. He finished up in the kitchen, thankful that the place was more a shack than a house and that he only had a few windows to sort out.

With the job done he vaguely thought about food before a rumble overhead vibrated through the house and a flash broke the darkness outside.

The wooded area out the house was briefly illuminated and Sam flinched at realising just how close the strike had been as a small fire smouldered in the bough of a dead oak a hundred yards down the track before it drowned under the heavy deluge overhead.

The whole place reeked of ozone and he muttered sourly to himself, "Great place to be during a storm, stuck on top of a freaking hill."

Sam looked out of the window and drew three fingers in a line down the condensation that his breath left and saw only inky darkness and waited for the next strike. The thunder rumbled again and he counted the seconds and only got to three before the night was lit up again. He watched the display for the next ten minutes more than a little awed by the power of nature on display before it tapered off to echo in the distance, the storm moving rapidly away.

His stomach rumbled its own discontent and he again was forced to think about food. He chuckled to himself as he noticed the list of chores his dad had pinned to fridge, one of them was to cook, "Yeah, right, like that's gonna happen."

Ducking his head into the fridge his hand automatically went to pick up the near empty carton of milk then paused remembering that he would need it for breakfast. There wasn't much else in the fridge, a carton of orange, a couple of eggs, and a small block of cheese on the turn by the smell of things and a few vegetables on the bottom shelf that had given up the pretence of ever being edible.

Tomorrow he realised he would have to stop at Nancy's uncle store and pick up some groceries on the way home.

His top lip twitched at spying the left over chilli that his dad had made so hot he was sure that his insides had blistered on contact. Picking up the container he dumped its contents in the bin with a grateful grunt, positive that it was just another form of torture his dad had dreamt up to inflict on him.

His stomach gurgled again and a smile lifted his features as he reached up to the top cupboard and he pulled out his secret stash of goodies, a large bag of chips and a Hershey chocolate bar.

The perfect supper, he reasoned, and now all he needed was something to drink. Leaning back into fridge his gazed drifted up to the top shelf to the six pack of beer. With a small shrug he murmured softly as he grabbed a can, "While the cats away…"

Turning on the ancient TV any thoughts of homework or chores were forgotten as he flopped down on the couch. The picture alternated between grainy and snowy but still he could make out enough of the Monty Python classic to laugh out loud. It felt good to have that freedom again, without having censuring looks thrown his way if he did anything more than breathe softly.

As the hour wore on and Sam's long legs dangled over the edge of the sofa his mood lightened. It was if an invisible weight had been lifted of his chest so that he could suddenly breathe easier, the threat of chores and endless training gone with his father's absence.

Sam allowed the luxury of a smile to cross his features at this new act of defiance as he supped the illicit brew. He had come to the conclusion that chocolate and beer were not a good mix but just imaging just how pissed his dad would be if he could see him now seemed to make the bitter brew taste almost sweet.

At some point the long day and the fix of junk food and half a can of beer had left him sleepy and he had drifted off. It wasn't until the shrill tone of the phone ringing broke through his foggy dream state that he woke with a start.

Instantly alert he shot up to a sitting position and the bag of chips fell onto the floor. As he swung his legs over a foot connected with the half full can of beer and it skittered across the floor to spill its contents in a long glug onto the shabby carpet.

"Damn it," growled Sam as he lurched to his feet and danced around the mess and grabbed the phone from the table. Daring a quick glance to his watch he realised that he had been asleep a good few hours as it was now past ten o'clock and his stomach did a little roll fearing it was his dad checking up on him.

As he hurriedly pressed the green button on the phone to accept incoming calls his stomach clenched at the expected tongue lashing from his dad and to his own ears his voice sounded pathetically brittle as he answered, "Hello?"

"Sammy you okay?" came back the concerned voice of his brother down the line.

Letting how a deep exhale of relief Sam grinned and gave a soft laugh, "Yeah Dean, - the one and only."

"Then why the hell didn't you pick up sooner?" Dean had been torn in two at knowing his dad had left Sam behind. Relief that his brother would not be involved in the hunt but also concerned that he was left alone and unprotected till Joshua turned up.

Feeling a little sheepish at worrying his brother Sam sucked in a breath, "Sorry, I sort of fell asleep watching the box."

"Jesus dude, you planning to drive me to an early grave here, I thought…. look never mind just don't do that again."

Sam couldn't keep the amusement from his voice, "Really stop worrying. Not like I haven't done this whole 'Home Alone' thing before."

Dean's voice softened at realising that his little brother really was fine, "Maybe, but with dad gone you've got stay on your toes even if it is just for one night."

Sam yawned and stretched out his long frame. "Yeah. I know."

Hearing the tiredness in his brother's voice Dean asked sharply, "So you locked up, checked the lines, made sure things are secure?

"Yep. Nothing is getting in here tonight," came back Sam before he started to recheck the protection by the front door and the windows just in case.

Dean satisfied that his brother was safe knew that school beckoned tomorrow for Sam and reluctantly went to end the phone call, "So you best get your sorry ass to bed, you've got school tomorrow, and don't forget to…"

"… brush my teeth and wash behind my ears." snorted back Sam a little irritated that even so far away his brother was dictating to him. "Just stop being such a mother hen. Dad seems quite happy to leave me here so what's problem?"

"Yeah well dad doesn't know what a first class idiot you can be at times."

"Jerk," grinned back Sam, now checking the back door to see if he had locked it properly.

"Bitch."

"Whatever."

Dean paused knowing he should hang up but the nagging need to know how things really were going with his brother and dad couldn't be ignored, "So how 's life in Wisconsin? School good?"

"Schools school, what do you want me to say?"

Detecting the bitterness in his brother's voice Dean quickly asked, "You having trouble there?"

"No," answered Sam quickly not wanting Dean to worry about something he had no control over, "It's just another school in a long line of schools. Same crap wherever you go."

Dean took the hint and instead asked, "So any hot chicks you've hooked up with there?" When he got no answer he laughed softly, "The girls really that ugly?"

"Snotty little bitches more likely," snapped back Sam. "I'm steering well clear of all their little games."

"You've got to have some fun some time Sammy. I hear it gets really cold in Wisconsin so cuddling up to some farmer's daughter might keep the frostbite away."

"Fun? You forgetting where I am and who's pulling the strings here?"

"When did you get so freaking cynical?" snapped back Dean.

"Since I realised that I really do not have any control of my life."

There was a long pause before Dean added bitingly, "There's no way of talking to you when you're like this. I'll call another day when hopefully you will have been able to removed your sizeable head out of your own ass."

Sam warned as he went to hang up, "Not if I check caller Id first."

"Don't make me bitch slap you down the phone line dude," growled out Dean in warning. "You better pick up the goddam phone or so help me…"

Sam couldn't hold back a laugh, "Okay, okay! Jeez man you've been around Caleb too long and forgotten what a sense of humour is."

"Ha, ha, very funny."

"I thought so," answered Sam softly missing his brother now so much that it was a physical pain. He wanted to ask when he was coming home but instead side stepped the question by asking about the hunt, "Anyways you anywhere near to finishing off Chuckie yet?"

Dean missed the desperate edge to his little brother's voice and huffed back, "No man like I've told you before Chupacabras are just a stupid modern day myth. Just like Vampires were dreamt up to scare little boys named Sammy in their beds at night."

Ignoring the jibe Sam asked, "So you still think it some sort of Werewolf? Now that _is_ an urban myth. You and Caleb are so far off track here…"

Irritably Dean snapped back, "Listen you little smartass stop second guessing us with this job. We've got it covered, so why don't you just worry about fixing things up with dad why don't you?"

"Like you said I'm smart enough to know that some things can't be fixed," snorted back Sam not liking where his brother was now directing the conversation. "You ever think that I don't want to anyway."

"Real adult Sammy. You know if you poured half of the energy you put into winding him up and instead tried to meeting him half way then things wouldn't be so bad."

Stung by his brother's open rebuke Sam blinked back hot tears, "Yeah everything is always my fault. God forbid the all mighty John Winchester ever gets anything wrong."

Dean for his part was too tired to stop his words from coming out harder than his intent, "Stop being such a drama queen. You really are starting to hold a grudge here dude, you planning to never speak to him again?"

Picking at a hole in the hem of his t-shirt Sam shrugged out his indifference, "Wouldn't matter if I do or not. He never listens to me so what's point of trying to get myself heard anymore?"

Dean sighed knowing that there was an element of truth in what his brother said but still he felt obliged to defend their dad, "He'll listen when you get your head out of your ass and get with the programme. Giving him the silent treatment isn't exactly mature is it?"

His unhappiness spilling out at his brother's harsh tone Sam spat back, "I thought you'd be pleased. You're forever telling me shut up around the man. Don't speak unless spoken to, right? I'm just taking your advice on board is all…"

"Stop using my words against me you little freak. You know something dad is right you really do need to grow up. I'm glad he took you to Wisconsin to sort you out. Maybe it will stop you from being the screw up of this family…"

Dean winced as his words spoken in anger was met with a long silence before the line went dead.

"He didn't just do that?" Dean growled out loud in disbelief before anger hot and prickly washed over him. His little brother had really just cut him off.

He pressed the redial and waited for Sam to pick up not liking that he was too far away from him to smack him around the back of the head.

"Pick up the goddam phone you little bitch," he growled ignoring the questioning look from Caleb. When there was no answer Dean turned to his friend, "The little shit is so going to get it when I get my hands on him next."

It scared him knowing that he was now the second Winchester on his little brothers list he wasn't speaking to. His stubborn brother really was intending to fly solo for the next few days apparently more than willing to cut him out of his life.

Caleb had heard the one sided conversation between the brothers and knew that Dean harsh words were an automatic defence mechanism when it came to his dad. He just never realised that he would use such cruel word on his little brother like that.

Handing over a beer he sat down and said softly, "Give him time too cool down. He won't want to talk to you till then."

"The jackass will have to call me first," muttered back Dean sourly, looking at his phone with a frown. The urge to press redial and tear a strip of his brother was still so strong.

"Your right someone was a jackass here dude," remarked Caleb coldly.

Dean's head snapped up in defence readying to argue but Caleb cut him off, "Don't you see the kid gets it in the neck all day long from your dad and he just needed to vent some of this to his big brother. Instead what he got was a mini version of John Winchester telling him for the thousandth time that he's not good enough."

"It wasn't like that man," snapped back Dean. "I just don't want him and dad going at it anymore."

"Yeah well that's a two way street and your dad isn't the type of man to meet your brother half way is he?"

Caleb studied his friend for a brief second before adding, "Your brother has always hero worshiped. Your words carry weight with him, though God knows why when half the time all that comes out of your mouth is gibberish."

Dean glared back at the older man, "Come on man, the kid is just too sensitive for his own good. Once he gets over his hissy girly fit he'll calm down. He knows I didn't mean it."

Caleb shook his head sadly and offered up his own personal confession, "Dean you're not listening. You think it doesn't hurt to be told that you're useless every day? My dad did it to me, playing me off against my brothers, till I was old enough to walk away and be my own man. You want the same for Sammy?"

On noting how Deans' face visibly paled Caleb got up and went to wait outside to give Dean some privacy, only pausing fleetingly in the doorway to say "The kid has always loved you unconditionally. Funny thing I thought you did the same but judging by the way you spoke to him tonight I see I was wrong. You truly have become your dad's mouthpiece."

As the door slammed shut Dean felt his stomach knot at Caleb's parting words. They were brutal but honest and he was left to wonder just when did he allow his father's voice come out of his mouth? Just when did it become so easy to hurt his baby brother so?

Anxious fingers suddenly pressed the redial, the urgent need to make things right with his brother now a physical palpable need as his chest tightened as his bravado of earlier dissipated to be replaced by raw guilt.

The phone rang but there was no response and Dean begged softly, "Come on kiddo give your brother a chance here to eat crow."

He was forced to press the redial button half a dozen times before his brother picked up, and he anxiously asked, "Sammy?"

There was no answer and Dean wet his dry throat with a gulp of beer. "Look kid I know you're angry with me, my stupid mouth and all. But it's too far away for us to be fighting like this. Come on lets call a truce here."

The silence was still not broken and he asked again, "Sam please. I'm sorry…"

There was a hitched breath down the line before his brother broke his silence, "I'm sorry too." There was a lengthy pause as Sam struggled to keep his emotions under control. "I didn't mean to get you so mad and I don't mean to screw up all the time."

Dean could hear the pain in his brother's voice and felt it vibrate inside himself, knowing that this time out he had caused it. "Oh Sammy that ain't true. I don't know why I said that? Too much sun and a beer too many maybe?"

Unable to disguise the tremor in his voice Sam answered, "You must think it though. Dad does."

"Well he's a jackass at times." Dean heard his brother gasp out in surprise and quickly added, "Though if you ever tell him I said that I will have to seriously hurt you, you hear me?"

Sam's soft giggle down the line eased the tight feeling in his chest and Dean sighed his relief, "Look little brother you know I'm proud of you right despite all that emo crap you pull?"

Sam didn't answer and Dean could only guess at the thoughts going through his head. "Hey I know it must be difficult for you being up there with Dad doing his hard-man marine act on your ass all the time. Just try and suck it up if you can and I'll be back before you know it."

"Okay Dean," whispered back Sam, frightened of saying more as his throat seized up at hearing his brother's much needed support.

"Another week man, that's all its gonna be. You'll be okay till then." It was a prayer that Dean was silently muttering under his breath for his brother.

"Yeah, I won't screw up, I promise."

Hearing the strength returning his brother's voice Dean felt his own confidence returning, "I know you won't Sammy, and maybe this time round dad will see it too."

Sam didn't react to that thought silently not believing that would ever happen and instead whispered out, "You'll ring me again?"

"Yeah Sammy you know I will. Caleb and I will be busy the next few nights getting Mr Skunk Ape sorted out so I'll ring you on Wednesday. Okay?"

Sam laughed happily, "Told you before it's a Chuckie…"

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Coach Enders eyed the tall boy with more than a hint of frustration as he loped past the dug out and towards the end zone on a cold dreary Tuesday evening. The kid was a natural athlete, having just done the last twenty laps of the pitch without even breaking a sweat and he could only guess at the untapped potential he possessed.

The boy had speed, agility and judging by the state he'd left three of his best athletes enough power behind him to be of use either in the football team or basketball squad. It just really irked him that none of that was at his ready disposal as the boy couldn't be part of any team until he wore the school kit.

As the boy continued with his final ten laps dusk was descending and the spotlights automatically came on. He didn't pause just kept on running, his face unreadable as he continued his detention KP.

Enders glanced at his watch. By the time he finished up here his wife would be tearing her hair out as the stupid tickets for the 7'0'clock show she had made him get for the local theatre were burning a hole in his pocket.

Martha was going to kill him and he found himself suddenly on his feet and calling out, "Hey Winchester, time to head for the showers."

Sam drew to a halt before the dug out a startled look of surprise on his face, "I have another nine laps coach."

"You can do them tomorrow. Now get your stuff, shower up and get out of here."

Sam winced not relishing the thought of walking the ten miles home another night, "I'd prefer to do them now sir."

"Winchester it's been over two weeks now. Just get your dad to sort out your P.E. kit and we can call this quits." Enders saw something akin to panic in the boy's eyes and frowned, "You know if it's a problem just get your dad to contact the office. There is a hardship fund…."

Appalled at the thought Sam shook his head furiously, "No sir. My dad will get the kit sorted out. Its just that with his new job and all he's been busy."

"You make sure he does that before Thursday or you'll be doing another thirty laps on top of the nine you owe me tonight," warned Enders as they walked back into the locker room.

He watched as his student nodded his shaggy head in understanding and he found himself asking, "You know Winchester we have a few openings in the football and basketball squads. Why don't you try out for a place?"

"No sir. It wouldn't be fair," whispered back Sam, pulling off his damp t-shirt as he grabbed a towel and headed for the showers.

Enders curiosity won over the need for him to get back home and he asked, "Why's that?"

Sam paused and dared look his coach square in the eye, "Because I would be taking the place of a student that would be here for the team all year long. I can't do that."

"You trying to say that you can't be a team player?"

"No sir. It's just that I won't be here long enough to give you that commitment. I've been to eight other schools in the last two years, Lincoln High is just a blip on the page before I move onto number ten."

"Oh," muttered Coach Ender's as he tried to wrap his head around the boy's nomadic existence. "That's a lot of schools kid. Your dad ever think of settling down somewhere nice? Baudette is a good place for a family to set down roots."

Again there was that strange flicker in the boy's eyes that Enders just couldn't read. "No sir. His job is his life. It's his main priority."

Enders watched Sam head off to the shower and suddenly felt weary. The boy was a good kid at heart, he could see that now, his reserved nature a defence from all the upheaval he was continuously being put through.

Perhaps if he had a word with Percy he might be able to find out why he was being dragged around the country never getting a chance to settle. It just didn't sit right with him. He had moved his family to Baudette eight years ago because they had to come first and he wondered what sort of man Sam Winchester's father was to not have his son on the top of his list of priorities.

His phone vibrated in his shirt pocket and he smiled ruefully to himself as his wife's angry voice spat down the line.

"Just where the hell are you? I've got the baby sitter waiting and your still not here. You promised me."

"Hey Martha, I know I promised. I'll be finished up here in five minutes. Just finishing with a detention."

Martha attuned to her husband's moods forgot her frustration at his absence and gently asked, "You okay honey, you sound a little tired."

"Yeah I'm good. Just missing you and my girls. Give them a hug for me honey and I'll be home soon."

Five minutes later Enders watched Sam leave with just a small nod of recognition thrown his way and was left to wonder just what his father's reaction would be on picking him up.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

It was another miserable night and Ted Burnett was readying to close up the store and head upstairs to a cooked meal and a bottle of bourbon. It wasn't until the door pinged as the Winchester boy walked in that his thoughts on the meal and the alcohol disappeared.

Sam was drenched from head to toe and Burnett lifted up an eyebrow at his appearance. The boy from California really had yet to get a handle on the change of weather and what to wear it seemed. His lightweight jacket clung to him, as did his long shaggy hair dripping rivulets down his face and back. Most of all the boy looked cold, as his once warm tan had faded and his cheek bones stood out sharp on his pale skin.

"We're just about to close up," huffed out Burnett, "You best make this quick Sam."

"Yes sir, just grabbing a few bits and pieces." Sam ignoring the hard stare coming his way moved fast snatching up the few things he needed and headed over to the counter. He brushed his wet bangs out of his eyes and nodded at the Storekeeper. "Thanks sir. How's Nancy? She wasn't at school today."

His step-niece's left eye had closed shut from his beating the night before and she was sporting a large purpling bruise that no make-up could hide. Burnett squirmed a little before he coughed out, "Women's trouble."

Daring to look up he caught Sam's earnest stare and fought against the unsettling feelings it stirred inside him.

"Tell her I hope she gets better soon," offered up Sam with a hopeful flash of dimples handing over a slightly damp ten dollar note in payment. "Can I have a receipt please sir?"

Burnett felt the pulse in his wrists bang loud as he rang up the items, quickly bagging them before handing back Sam his change with the requested a till receipt, "What you doing out in this weather anyways boy?"

Sam ducked his head aware of the scrutiny he was under not willing to say he had just walked home from school, " Just needed a few things."

"Your dad couldn't drive you down? This weather is enough to make a duck drown…"

"Umh, well he's still at work and you would have closed up by the time he got home," Sam offered up in explanation as he picked up his bag of groceries and went to leave.

Burnett gave a soft snort of disbelief knowing full well the older Winchester's truck had yet to return but held his tongue. The boy had been left alone all night and it looked like it was going to be the same tonight.

As the rain continued to fall heavily he saw his chance and quickly offered, "Well it don't hold with me seeing you standing there half freezing to death. Give me five minutes to lock up and I'll drive you back home."

Sam shook his head more than a little uneasy at the suggestion. He had nothing against the man but Burnett just gave off the strangest vibes at times for him to want to keep a wide berth of him. "No thanks sir. My uncle Joshua is already on his way over. He'll pick me up."

Burnett nodded slowly mastering his annoyance, "Okay boy, give my regards to your daddy and stay safe out there."

"Yes sir. I aim to."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

The phone was ringing the moment he came through the door and he dropped his small bag of groceries on to the kitchen workbench hurriedly worrying that his brother was ringing earlier than intended.

As he snatched up the phone he breathlessly asked, "Dean?"

A deep baritone answered, "No Sam. Its Josh."

Sam wasn't able to hide his disappointment, "Oh…."

"Listen kid, I know I promised your dad to be here tonight but I've run into a spot of bother. I don't think I can get to you until Thursday, maybe even Friday."

Sam pushing his wet hair away from his eyes allowed a smile to creep across his face. "Don't sweat it man. Never needed you babysitting me in the first place."

"Not what your daddy thinks boy."

"Like I care what he thinks," snapped back Sam in open defiance, "I'm fine on my own."

"Well I'd like to believe that Sam but as I can't get John on his cell just get him to ring me when he calls in next."

Sam agreed, knowing full well that his dad would be fielding any calls to him via his brother, "Okay."

A voice, soft and decidedly feminine called out and Joshua distractedly added, "See you at the end of the week. You good till then?"

"Just peachy."

"Just give me a ring if you need me before then."

Sam didn't bother to answer guessing easily at Joshua's reason for being held up. He just hoped the woman's husband didn't blow a hole in his head if he got caught out.

A shiver went down his spine and a sneeze escaped, followed by another, as the puddle on the floor by his feet grew.

Hastily he stripped off his sodden jacket and jeans and draped them over a couple of chairs and left them to dry out in the kitchen. With the wood-burning oven blasting out heat from its open doors he hoped they would be wearable by tomorrow morning.

With his toes squishing inside his sodden sneakers he knew that they too needed drying out. Pushing them off his cold feet he placed the tatty footwear upside down on top of the cooker's hob hoping that they too would be dry by morning. It didn't matter if they weren't as they were the only pair of shoes that fitted him so dry or not he would be wearing them tomorrow.

With Joshua now a no-show he realised that his escape routes with Coach Enders and the threat of a second dentition and another long walk home had been whittled down to one. He pulled out the small tin his dad had left the emergency money in and counted out thirty dollars.

It was just about enough to pay for a second hand kit in the school shop he hoped, all the while knowing that no way in hell would his dad appreciate a call from Vice Principal Starling to discuss the school's Hardship fund for needy pupils.

He was deemed too fucking needy by his dad at the best of times so no need to advertise that to the man if he could solve the problem his end.

Mind made up he started to put away his small bag of groceries, thankful that he had milk for the next few days and enough bread for sandwiches for his packed lunch.

It wasn't until he pulled the eggs out of the damp bag that he noticed the Twinkies bar at the bottom of the bag and was left wondering just how Nancy had snuck that in under the nose of her uncle.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Burnett eyes burnt with the need for sleep as he watched the turning into the old Leeson's place inside his truck. So far neither the boy's dad or so called uncle had turned up. It was gone past midnight and the boy with the pretty eyes and dimples was still all on his own. Again.

Turning his engine on he pulled out of the thicket and headed back for home, for that bottle of bourbon, and for a good night sleep. The next few days was just a waiting game he knew as the boy's dad was too scary a man to rush things rashly here.

As for this imaginary uncle Joshua he was not happy that the boy could lie so easily to him about him. Just like Nancy he needed to be taught the lesson that lying to his elders was just plum wrong.

TBC

_**Next chapter up the actions starts up with Sam's 'Home Alone' status biting hard. Dean and his Florida hunt goes pears-shaped and John Winchester gets a bit of a thumping! **_


	4. Chapter 4

_Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out. Again all usual disclaimers apply and all jaw dropping stupid mistakes are mine. If I haven't personally managed to say my thanks one and all to the simply inspiring reviewers then I offer them up now. Thanks for sticking with this and as tardy as I may seem at times all reviews are warmly welcomed._

**Growing Pains**

**Chapter 4 – Pride goeth before a fall.**

Sam woke with a strangled cry on his lips, his body jack knifing upward only for his panic to increase as something kept him in a tight wrap and he gasped out groggily, "No, no, Dean…."

A second later his eyes snapped open and he took in a long juddering breath all the while willing his heart to stop beating at a too fast a pace. Feeling wet cotton clinging to him he peeled back the sweat-drenched sheet that had snaked itself around his chest and sucked in another long inhale of air.

Anxiously he looked around the room but it was empty except for himself and his own fears. As the last vestige of the nightmare slipped away from conscious thought all that he was left with was the panic that still coursed through his veins.

Feeling a little foolish he finally managed to wriggle out of the sheets damp embrace and threw it to the bottom of the bed with a loud huff of disgust. Pulling the rest of the bedcovers back he swung his bare legs over the edge of the mattress and let the cold of the early morning shock him fully awake.

Drawing a shaking hand up over his face and wet bangs he lingered there in the semi darkness wondering just what the dream had been about as even now his heart was thudding painfully in his chest.

Glancing down at his watch he grimaced. It was only four in the morning and from past experience learnt over the last few nights he knew further sleep was impossible. Tomorrow he told himself tiredly, nightmares or not, he wasn't getting out of bed till midday.

Sam smiled at the thought. It was Friday after all and last day of school for a whole week bringing with it the freedom to do what he liked till his dad came back. Dean had hinted that he might be back on Sunday, maybe even Monday and that gave him at least one whole day of freedom to himself.

Shivering as his toes touched the cold floor Sam dragged a blanket off the bed and draped it over his shoulders and started in a quick hobble back to the kitchen and it's welcome warmth.

It was an early morning ritual that he had taken up since the dark dreams had started to plague him. Automatically en-route he turned on the TV for some much needed background noise before he making himself a coffee to idle the next few hours away.

As he sat down by the stove and tried to warm up, he leant over and checked to make sure his sneakers were dry again after another soaking. They felt stiff but were thankfully dry and he let out a tired breath of relief and wormed his feet into them to offset the cold.

Supping the last of the coffee Sam closed his eyes, letting the heat from the open stove wash over him and he let out a deep sigh. When dad got back he knew he would have to swallow back bile and ask him for some new boots and a coat as Wisconsin's wintery weather was dictating his body's need over his pride now.

If he hadn't already used the emergency fund for the stupid PE kit he would have been tempted to go to the local thrift store and get them himself. Still with Coach Enders threatening to call his dad about a hardship fund felt he had made the right choice. The last thing he needed was his dad chewing him out for getting the school involved in their lives and embarrassing him like that.

'Nope, you have to keep the school and that old goat firmly at arms length from each other,' he told himself resolutely and was reminded of one of his brother's favourite quotes, "You're a Winchester, act like one."

Putting down his empty mug he nodded his determination sure that he could tough out a few more days of bad weather. Besides with his toes now toasty warm the cold world of outside no longer seemed so terrible anymore.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Jeb Murdoch stood up and stretched his tall frame. In truth he was a bear of a man. So large he made Sheriff McCall who stood over six foot two seem short of stature.

In his prime he had been a fine athlete, but now as he slid past middle age he was as broad as he was tall as his once muscular frame had turned to fat with a belly paunch now so firmly established it hung over the top of his jeans in a heavy droop.

It was belly used to large meals and jugs of beer and it was hungry and it made Jeb's temper even more sour so that he threw a look of disgust at his snoring elder son in the adjoining cell.

"Damn it you Ade your momma birthed you wrong or something?" he growled out his frustration, "We find ourselves royally stitched up and all you can do is sleep the fucking time away."

The only answer he got was a grunt from his son who rolled over on his cot and started snoring all over again.

As he watched his son sleep his anger intensified. Someone had set them up. Just who and why he had yet to find out, but this whole bogus firearms licence deal was just a ruse to keep them off the hunt. Of that much he was certain.

For four nights he had been left cooling his heals in the confines of the Eagle's Fall jail, a small grey concrete building that housed only himself and his son. He had threatened, screamed blue murder and had even offered bribes but not one of the bastards keeping him locked up had listened.

Cracking his knuckles he started to pace again. When he did find out who was behind this all he was going to take great enjoyment in skinning them alive, whether they be demon or human.

After an hour of pacing he stopped and pressed his face to the bars and tried once again to see down the corridor but his vision was limited. Huffing out his annoyance he banged the door with a loud thump. "You can't keep me in here like this you morons. I have my rights. When I get lawyered up your gonna regret messing with Jeb Murdoch. You hear me Sheriff? I'll have your badge for this."

Sheriff McCall listened non-chantilly to Jeb's familiar rants with a knowing smirk. "Close the door Jerry," he drawled out slowly, watching as his deputy shut the adjoining door to the cell wing and their office. "You best go get to the diner and get ready to feed them again before we shut up for the night."

Jerry nodded picking up his jacket to offset the chill in the night air, wise enough not to ask any questions about their current visitors, "You want anything Sheriff?"

"A pot of coffee. Got a feeling its gonna be another long night."

John Winchester resting his feet on the corner of his desk nodded his affirmation. throwing over his shoulder at the departing deputy, "Bring back some pie too."

Jerry threw a look at his boss and McCall nodded. Pie sounded good.

Murdoch and his boy were bait, and soon enough if they were correct he'd have his town back to just how he liked it, nice, quiet and distinctly demon free. So Fredericks had remained firmly in the confines of his church, but the odd parishioner had started to poke around. No doubt let out on a long leash by the demon to find out the facts on Jeb and his boy.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

The small goat tethered by a short rope staked to the ground bleated for few long seconds advertising its presence then went back to eating the surrounding greenery.

"Good little billy goat," whispered Caleb as he watched the animal carry on eating oblivious to any danger it might be in.

The older hunter drew the cuff of his sleeve across his sweat-dappled forehead and reached for his canteen of water and took a long chug. The weather was muggy making the waiting more than a little uncomfortable. As he crouched down trying to ignore the heat he wondered just where he had gone wrong with this hunt.

The moment they had set foot in Florida the attacks had petered out, so his theory of them being linked to the lunar cycle was blown. The clues which had seemed so real on paper were not standing true on the ground.

Frustratingly the only feedback that offered any new information were the half drunken ramblings from a couple of farm hands in the local bars, both scared shitless of seeing something which they couldn't quite name.

It was a something so vague it could be almost half a dozen things, none of them the werewolf he had prepped Dean and himself for.

As if sensing his friend's thoughts Dean took a long breath by his side and whispered out a telling confession. "You know geek boy thinks we're hunting a chupacabra here."

"Really?" murmured back Caleb eyes still locked on the goat and the small track it moved about on that was now barely visible as dusk fell. He gave a small nod of acknowledgement adding, "You never know your brother's instincts are pretty sound, in fact scary good at times."

"Oh come on dude," hissed back Dean not liking the possibility of his little brother being right, again, "No such things exists, Sammy is just trying to wind me up. You'll be telling me there are actual vampires next."

"Just like Werewolves and Skunk Apes are apparently not real either," drawled back the older man with a small smirk on his face.

Dean shifted besides him trying to work out the burn in his leg muscles as he sat hunched in the boggy ditch, "Well if it is a You-Know-What we'd better not let Sam find out. His head will grow so big its bound to go pop."

Caleb glanced briefly away from the trail with a wry grin on his face, "More importantly we don't tell your dad. I told him this gig was sound, now two weeks in were left sitting on our butts, being chow time for a marsh load of mosquitoes and nothing else."

"Deal," murmured back Dean before slapping at his neck as one of the bloodsuckers made its presence known.

Caleb grey eyes fixed once more on the barely visible trail and nodded, his fingers mentally crossed that perhaps tonight as the sun dipped low and spread orange fingers across the pockets of swamp water their luck was finally changing.

As the sweat trickled from his scalp to run down the back of his neck the cold of Wisconsin seemed more and more appealing to Dean and he muttered sourly under his breath, "Sammy boy got it easy this time out that's for sure. I'm sure these bloody mosquitoes are aiming to drain me dry."

"Vampire mozzies maybe?" chuckled Caleb absently, "Good luck on finding their leader and chopping off it's pesky little head off dude."

Dean went to reply but something many legged started a run up his boot and he jumped back in horror batting it away with the barrel of his shotgun.

Fear driving his actions he stomped down hard on the beast with a satisfying splat. A shudder went down his spine and he lifted his boot up to make sure the thing was dead.

As he examined the sole of his boot he let out a thankful grunt before throwing a death glare at Caleb. His voice was a harsh resentful whisper as he spat out, "I hate this swamp and its bugs and those freaking multi legged monsters everywhere. You hear me Cal. Hate them."

"Oh man!" Caleb snickered softly, "I forgot that the fearless Dean Winchester hates spiders."

"They're not natural dude. Evil incarnate I tell you. The devil's spawn."

Unable to hide his amusement Caleb's shoulders shook with silent laughter and he finally gasped out, "God your such girl freaking out at having a itsy-bitsy creepy crawly run up your leg."

"It wasn't a little nothing, and if you wanna talk about my levels of testosterone here let me just remind you that I'm not the one sucking his thumb when he sleeps."

Caleb not in the least bit fazed by Dean's temper tantrum threw him a knowing grin, "At least I don't cuddle my pillow and call it Pookie-bear all night long."

Dean went to answer but a shadowy movement in the trees twenty yards down the trail caught his attention and he dropped silently back down into the ditch dragging Caleb with him. Pressing a finger to his lip in warning Dean nodded over to the right of them, the barrel of his gun pointing in the direction of their quarry.

Caleb grunted out his surprise and whispered out his relief at the hunt not being a total bust, "Well I'll be damned. Looks like Sammy boy was right after all."

The goat had seen it too and leapt furiously around twisting and pulling at the rope till the divot in the ground was pulled out and it galloped down the track towards them, drawing the creature further out into the open.

Dean nodded eyes wide in surprise, before instinct took and he pulled back the hammer to his shotgun, "Damn the thing is ugly."

"No wonder they're so rare, it's a wonder they ever manage to reproduce," whispered Caleb a grin on his face that the last two weeks hadn't been a total bust.

The goat bleated out its terror again the whites of it eyes glittering in the descending darkness, before it pelted past them in a mad dash to freedom. Dean watched it fly past with a small huff of relief, hoping that it had enough sense to hightail it back to the farmyard they had 'acquired' it from earlier.

"Damn," muttered Caleb under his breath, "Whose gonna play bait now?"

Dean shook the tension out of his shoulders and slowly stood up aiming a cocky look at his friend, "You ready to find out what chupacabra steak tastes like? My guess its gonna be just a little bit on the tough side."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

"Hey Coach a word please if you don't mind," demanded Vice Principal Starling, drawing the larger stocky man to one side in the staff room. "I hear you gave Samuel Winchester detention the other day. Care to fill me in to the reasons why?"

Matt Enders shrugged indifferently, "I know what you're thinking here Percy but the kid had no kit again. I'd given him enough get out clauses, hell even a forged note from his dad would have done, but nothing came my way and you know the rules."

Starling's narrow face scrunched up in disdain, "Did you speak to Mr Winchester about this when he picked his son up? Explain to him why Sam was being punished?"

"Nah Percy, I let the kid off early. Never met the dad. Got the impression it didn't matter even if I did - besides he turned up yesterday with his kit so go figure."

"Well that's one problem solved at least for our newest student."

Enders shifted uncomfortably adding. "Yeah. It didn't really feel right dishing out a detention like that. School rules can really suck big times Percy."

Starling coughed slightly before adding, "You know he has another detention tonight. Calculus with Mr Browne. No calculator. Again."

"Seems to be a bit of a pattern going on here," nodded Enders. "Still a calculator isn't exactly the end of the world here, is it?"

Percy snorted back his disbelief, "You trying doing applied mathematics without one. It isn't exactly counting on your fingers type class is it?"

Enders clucked his tongue in disbelief, "So what is it going to cost them for a calculator. Ten bucks most?"

Remembering the causally attired but clean-shaven father Percy shrugged. "I really don't think it's about the money. I was left with the distinct impression that the man just didn't put much stock in his son's educational needs. Period."

"The school is losing out then."

"Why's that?" asked Starling, his eyebrows darting up his forehead at the disclosure, that Enders would have any interest in the boy feeling his academic prowess would negate any sporting ability.

Matt leant back and confessed, "I thought him just some nerdy swot but it turns out the kid is a natural athlete. Could make the first team anytime he likes in basketball and football. Frustrating thing he won't even try out for them as he feels he'll be moving on again any time soon."

Starling nodded his understanding, "Judging by his past school records that is a distinct possibility. It's a crying shame, the lad has a bright academic future ahead of him given half a chance. Perhaps I should take the bull by the horns and have a quiet chat with his dad. See if we can help out in anyway."

Coach Enders shook his head, "I don't know Percy, you should have seen the look of panic on the boy's face when I mentioned contacting his dad about using the schools hardship fun."

John Winchester had a left a powerful impression behind on their initial meeting and Starling put a placating hand on the Coach's shoulder. "Having met the father I can understand Sam's reaction. He comes across as one of those ex-military types who rules his family with an iron fist. He wouldn't take kindly to being offered charity in whatever form you tried to disguise it"

Ender's clicked his tongue in annoyance, "So are you going to get Barney to let the kid off tonight? Sounds like the boy could do with the break."

Starling shook his head, "It isn't my place to intervene here Matt and school rules are school rules as you well know."

"Well someone needs to do a rewrite here on some our more archaic school policies. Just ask the Winchester boy and I bet he'll agree."

Chuckling softly Starling nodded his agreement, "I'll try talking to Sam later on. Hopefully the chance of a weeks break will give him time enough to get things sorted."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Caleb wasn't prone to panic but on seeing the bloody mess that Dean had been left in he was close to losing it. Pressing against a deep slash his fingers soon coloured red, "Oh god man, it sliced you up good and proper."

"Ya think?" griped back Dean, his eyes dull with pain, "But we got the fugly critter, right?"

Swallowing back his fear Caleb nodded, wiping crimson stained fingers down the front of his shirt before he ripped open his med kit frantically searching out anything of use, "Yeah Dean, you dropped the freaking thing dead to rights. Skull parts and brains splattered all over the underbrush. Just wish you had enough sense not to offer up your body for shish kebab in the process."

A cough, brittle and telling, broke from Dean's chest. "Never thought it would move so damn fast, I ducked when I should have rolled. Just stitch me up and get me the hell out of Florida."

"You need a hospital, I can't fix this mess." Caleb blanched further as he pressed a sterile gauze pad against one of the deeper slashes to see it instantly turn red.

"Stop being so goddamn squeamish and sew me up," hissed back Dean. When Caleb went to shake his head Dean snaked out a hand and gripped his forearm, "Do it man, remember our deal?"

"That was before you got laid open like a prime side of beef. Your dad is so going to kill me for this. He'll freak out big time. As will your brother."

Shuddering as Caleb pressed harder on the freely flowing wound Dean groaned out, "Gah…Bitch. Just get me out of here. All I need is a few days, then I can get back on the road. Sammy doesn't have to know a damn thing."

Caleb sucked in a breath trying to keep calm for his friend's sake. Taking off his shirt he wrapped it around Dean's shredded back purposely ignoring the hiss of pain it brought from his friend.

Clasping Dean's drooping head in his hands he turned his face to his own and confessed, "A few days isn't going to cut it here Dean. You're going to be laid up this side of week. You best be ready to be thinking up some excuses to your brother cos' you know I can't lie to him to save my ass."

Dean grinned weakly back pushing the pain of his torn flesh to the background, "Don't you worry about Sammy. He believes any crap that comes out of my mouth. Boy was born gullible."

Caleb grunted his disbelief before he hoisted Dean to his feet, offering himself as a crutch as Dean leant his battered body into him hissing sharply with the pain. The world spun and he would have fallen if not for the tight grip around his waist.

"Easy tiger," whispered Caleb, purposely ignoring the unnatural heat now radiating off Dean wondering if the claws carried poison on them, "Just a short walk back to the car."

"About my dad…don't tell him Cal. Not till he finishes up his own job, he can't afford to be distracted."

"Okay dude I promise he won't have to know – not straight away anyway." '_Just don't die on me dude before then_,' he prayed silently.

With slowly stuttering steps Caleb led them back to where the impala had been parked up. It had felt like an hour but it was only a few minutes but in that time Dean had lost his battle to stay conscious and was slipped into the passenger seat like a dead weight.

Caleb gunned the ignition letting the front wheels burn rubber before the car screamed forwards pointedly ignoring his friend's earlier plea and headed for the nearest hospital. There was no way he going to be able to sew up so much skin and muscle without Dean losing the battle first to blood loss.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Vice Principal Starling looked in on the detention class of one and sucked back a weary sigh. The sleety rain outside the classroom window mirrored his own feelings. That this had been one long dreary day of grey.

Sitting at the back of the room was Sam Winchester, looking seriously hacked off. His pencil beat furiously a tempo on the wooden desk as he watched the second hands tick by on the far side clock, whilst his math teacher Mr Browne oblivious to the sound read the newspaper.

Starling tapped sharply on the glass and Browne hastily folded up the newspaper and straightened up as the door opened. "Hey Mr Starling. Thought you might have gone home by now."

"No Mr Browne. I would just like a quick chat with young Winchester first if you don't mind."

Sam stilled his pencil, his senses on full alert as he watched Browne nod eagerly his agreement glad of this opportunity to get off home himself. He watched with a half an eye on the clock and the other on the Vice Principal as the second hands ticked down to the end of the hour.

Starling took up centre stage at the front of the chalkboard noticing the wary look in the boy's eyes.

As if suddenly remembering the reason for his late stay Browne paused by the doorway and turned back to Sam, "Don't forget Winchester, bring in a calculator after the school break or we will be doing a repeat performance of tonight."

Sam glared back him before the pencil snapped in his hand and he muttered out a barely audible, "Yes _(I was doing jut fine without one) _Sir."

When Browne disappeared Starling awkwardly perched on the edge of the teacher's desk, watching as Sam glanced back to the clock to see it strike the hour. His detention now officially over he quickly packed up his pencil case before dropping it into his backpack.

The chair scraped sharply on the floor as Sam stood up and for a moment Percival Starling the Third felt a moment of unease. This was the boy that had managed to take out three of the meanest jocks in the school and if he took a mind to it could do the same to him.

Coughing away his unease Starling stood to face the approaching boy, putting up a placating hand. "Take a seat Sam, I just wanted to touch base with you to see what exactly is going on here."

"Nothing is going on here Mr Starling," snapped back Sam irritably as he sat on a nearby desk dropping his backpack with a loud thump to the floor. He really wasn't looking forward to another long walk home.

"Seems to me two detentions in the last few days is something young man."

Sam stilled and Starling couldn't help but notice how his eyes darkened immeasurably before his expression slid into unreadable neutral. "Look Sam. Coach Enders…"

Sam merely lifted an eyebrow his voice deceptively calm, "I had my kit for practice on Wednesday. So what is the problem now?"

"No problem other than he would dearly love you to try out for the basketball team, and I for one think you would be a major asset to the school's newspaper or debate team."

There was a long difficult silence as Percival Starling awaited Sam's response. He watched a little confused as Sam merely picked up his backpack, swung it over his shoulders and shook his head. "Can I go now?"

Starling blinked before nodding then hastily blurted out. "If you like I can have a chat with your father. I can tell him that a few after school activities may help you to settle into Lincoln a little bit easier."

Sam paused and locked eyes with the Vice Principal daring to speak the truth, "Sorry but I've got a whole different life to lead when I walk out of this building. Basketball or the Debate team is not part of that agenda one little bit, believe me."

The door shut so softly behind him as Sam left that Starling hadn't realised he had been holding in a breath till he felt the burn in his throat. As he took in some air all he could think of as the door swung shut was how the boy had been left so cynical at such an early age?

Pushing himself off the desk he walked slowly back to his office deep in thought. He would have to try and draw his father around, may be a call him would help broker a middle ground here. The boy oozed raw natural intelligence and it would be a crime to waste such potential.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Ted Burnett had watched the school bus drive straight past his place without dropping off the Winchester boy two hours ago and now he was left wondering if ever if he was going to show up. Every few minutes he would glance down at the clock on the till readout before turning his head back to the empty road and still the boy was a no-show.

Night fell quickly this time of year and now the only light in the darkness was from the shop frontage, a beacon he hoped for the absent Winchester boy.

Going over the day's CTTV footage of the road outside the gas pumps he took a long swig from the bottle of vodka that he had been cradling in his lap for the last hour, enjoying the pleasing burn down his throat.

For a while he had thought the boy's father might have snuck by to pick him up but his grey truck never flickered across his screen. Laughing happily he took another swig fully aware that the boy's absentee father would have had to drive past the gas station to dry back into Baudette.

Then as he dragged another long shot of vodka into his mouth he shook his head, a sinister smile crossing his features at realising once again the kid was coming back to an empty house.

A thin tremulous voice called his attention away from road and his dark thoughts to find his wife standing right of the till, "Ted dear, you want to close up now and get ready for tonight. I've finished all the restocking and supper is ready."

Celia Burnett's glance darted to the bottle in his hand and she swallowed her fear, carefully schooling her features so as not to offer up any offence. His temper bad at the best of times quadrupled under the pall of alcohol.

Ted shook his head, shaking a meaty fist at her in warning, "Supper? You really think I want to end up in ER with food poisoning on a Friday night? Besides you think I can eat now having seen your mangy face."

Her fingers darted to her swollen puffy eyes and healing split lip and she hurriedly backed away, her head drooping with shame, "I'm sorry honey."

"Just git you ugly bitch, I'll get something to eat with the guys," snapped back Burnett swallowing another insult as the store door chimed heralding the entrance of a fresh customer.

Burnett watched his wife's hasty retreat with a telling hatred pulsing in his veins before he looked back to the to see a familiar figure in the fresh produce aisle.

Hastily he straightened himself up, sliding the near empty bottle to his feet and smiled happily to himself. A cold, wet and miserable looking Sam Winchester was still a pretty sight, far more appealing than that washed out old hag he had been forced into marrying.

Carefully he watched as the boy checked each price label before picking up just a quart of milk, eggs, packets of soup and a small loaf of bread. Wetting his lips he watched the boy count out his money before heading towards him.

"How you doing Sam? Your daddy okay? Bet yer glad its Friday and schools out for a week?" he asked with mock humour as he took the items from Sam and started to bag them up.

"We're doing fine. How's Nancy though?" asked Sam trying to deflect attention away from himself.

Burnett's eyes narrowed at the question, "Like I said woman stuff. I don't ask about those sort of things, if you get my drift."

Sam shrugged his long bangs covering his eyes so that it was hard to judge what was actually going on his head and he asked a little more persistently, "You want a receipt again boy?"

Sam lifted his gaze up and Burnett sucked in breath as he watched the dimples appear, "Yeah Mr Burnett, thanks for reminding me."

Burnett shook his head, rolling the top of the paper bag into a tight cinch before handing it over, "That will be $4.70."

Sam fished out the last of his few remaining bills and sighed as they disappeared into the till before he instinctively turned as the door bell pinged again and a blonde girl in high heels and a scandalously short denim skirt darted in.

Her glossy red lips pouted as she tried to read the various aisles inventory before she snapped a look across to Burnett, "You got diapers, right? My boyfriend's kid is stinking the car out."

"Sure we do. Second aisle down and to the left," cackled back Burnett before turning back with a salacious grin to Sam.

There was a brief awkward moment as Sam waited with his hand outstretched and Burnett smacked his own forehead lightly, "Silly me, letting my head get turned by a pretty woman in a short skirt."

Burnett tore off the till receipt shoving it purposely into Sam's cold hand with the thirty cents left over and smiled darkly, "You feel like a block of ice boy. You really should take better care of yourself."

"Yeah it's turning bitter out there," murmured back Sam readying to make his escape, the hairs on the back of his head starting to raise at the constant grilling from the shopkeeper.

"It's gonna get a whole lot colder you mark my words sonny. Wisconsin is most definitely not sunny California."

Burnett eyed the tall boy who merely nodded his agreement before he went to walk away and he called after him, "You tell your daddy and that uncle of yours that I aim to pop by and see them sometime. It ain't right us being neighbours and remaining strangers so."

"Yeah, will do Sir," answered back Sam softly trying to keep his voice shielded as his long legs ate up the distance between himself and the door in seconds.

Burnett watched him leave and start in a slow jog up the back lane and swore bitterly under his breath, "I bet you will."

By the time he gotten rid of the young blonde and locked up the store the heavens had opened up again and his eyes glittered in anticipation. He headed for his van without a backward glance, sensing the curtain twitch on the top floor as Celia watched him leave. Friday night was poker night after all, a routine he hadn't broken in the last twenty odd years or marriage, so the wife thought.

Taking another slug of vodka he started up the engine and felt the thrum of excitement building inside him as the chase in earnest started up.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

John was thankful when Aubrey and Jim turned up to give him a few hours reprieve from babysitting the Murdochs.

The demon slowly building up its power base had been sending out the odd feeler about the jail's latest guest, using part of his congregation to snoop by asking indirect questions before returning to feed their master. I

He knew that now it was only a matter of time before It came to them direct and then Aubrey's fancy artwork would be put to the test. It was just the waiting game that was proving tedious. His natural instinct was to attack, but he was smart enough to know that Jim was right this time out as a direct attack just wouldn't work here.

Quickly he walked down the dimly lit road towards the little watering hole he found at the back of Main Street. It was near enough to get back to the Sheriff's office if anything happened and far enough to allow him to sit down and enjoy his own company and his own thoughts.

Dropping his head down against the biting wind and light rain that now fell he dialled Dean's phone and got only his voicemail. John tried Caleb's phone next and got the same.

Pushing aside his disquiet at finding them both unreachable he pulled open the heavy metal door to the bar and the tang of stale beer and cigarette smoke stung his nose and eyes as he walked in.

After sitting at the back of the bar with a cold bottle and bowl of pretzel his disquiet grew. He had been relying all week on his oldest son's feedback as he kept tabs on things back in Baudette, especially as Sam seemed intent on keeping up the silent treatment.

The stubborn boy hadn't rang him once since he left for Eagles Fall and he felt more than slightly redundant in the father role to his youngest once again.

Now on his fourth night away from Sam the unease was growing. Fingering his phone he dragged in a slow deep breath and shook his head. "This is dumb you idiot, you're the father here, just call the fool boy."

Steeling himself for the cold reception to come he called home. The phone rang but there was no answer. He tried again and was left wondering whether his son was using Caller Id to block him out deliberately.

"This is so childish Sammy," he muttered hotly under his breath. His son he reckoned had to been home from school for a good few hours now and there really was no excuse not for him to pick up.

The word '_unless'_ lingered bitterly unsaid on his tongue and he blinked hard suddenly finding it hard to breathe. Pushing the beer bottle to one side he tried calling again. "Come on son, pick the hell up."

Anxiously he checked his watch again trying to calculate if he had enough time to tear back to Baudette before his next shift started. He knew Jim wouldn't fault him for being late back, but he had signed onto this job and would hate to let the man down or give the demon a chance to escape on them again.

There really was no contest of what his first priority was and decision made he stood up and slapped a few dollars on the table.

If his head wasn't so distracted in worry for his youngest boy he might have noticed the two men follow after him when he left the bar. He might have even heard their approach as he pressed his phone desperately to his ear longing to hear his baby boy's' voice.

Hell, he might have even heard the whistle through the air as the butt of a handgun smacked him hard on the skull before he fell boneless to the pavement.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Burnett drained the last of the bottle and threw it out of window, pressing down on the gas pedal for the truck to go faster. It was raining so hard now that his wipers were having trouble clearing the deluge away and his almost didn't spot the hunched over figure of Sam up ahead. Spraying his mouth with breath refresher before he dared slow down beside him he lowered the passenger window. "Lordy boy you best hop in before you drown out here."

Warily shook Sam head, sending a spray of heavy droplets into the air, "No thanks Mr Burnett. Almost home now. No need for you to go out of your way."

Sam took a step sideward and slipped past his van but Burnett wasn't so easily put off and drove up besides him again, "Ain't out of my way, delivering to old woman Pritchard over the hill."

He saw Sam blink owlishly taking the information on board and he pressed harder, "Oh for Christ didn't your momma teach yer that 'Pride goeth before a fall'. Just get in before I have to tell your daddy what a stubborn jackass you're being. I know he'd do the same for my Nancy if he saw her walking in such filthy weather."

Sam swallowed hard, the threat of yet someone else calling his dad about how he was screwing up hitting hard and he slowly nodded allowing Burnett to lean across to push the passenger door open.

The heavy set man watched with a smug smile of satisfaction as Sam climbed into the van and slammed the door firmly behind him. "Lets turn up the heat for you Sam," he purred as the vents poured out warmth that the shivering boy could instantly appreciate.

He reached over the back of his seat to snag a small hand towel and shoved it in Sam's direction eyeing pointedly his dripping hair. "Dry that mop you carry around with yer or your gonna end up catching a cold or something worse."

Dimples flashed once more in an apology before Sam start to dry off his dripping locks and Burnett felt his mouth go dry, his fingers trembling as he turned the ignition and started back up the road, longing for another shot of vodka and more.

Only a few minutes later the engine to Burnett's van was stilled and blood, bright and viscous, dripped in a pattern on the damaged glass of the concaved windscreen before slipping downwards to pool in puddle on the dashboard.

**TBC **

**Ooh cliffy I know but seriously I am already working on the next chapter! Promise (hopefully) to update soon. Rozzy**.


	5. Chapter 5

_All usual disclaimers apply, and sadly all mistakes are yet again of my own creation. Again my mouth is left a-gaping at all the positive feedback I've been receiving. And again I am behind in saying my thanks to one and all! Doesn't mean I don't appreciate them, just means that RL has been a major btch! This chapter starts with a lead up to that crash at the end of the last chapter, hope you enjoy. Rozzy_

**Growing Pains**

**Head Butts and phone calls**

Sam tried to quell the unease prickling at his senses as he got into Burnett's van but he figured he had little choice here. The last thing his dad would want was for him to cause ripples in the neighbourhood. He could imagine half of Baudette would hear about it from the blabber mouthed shopkeeper if he refused this lift.

No, he would do as expected and keep a low profile, because somewhere along the line he was supposed to remain invisible. It was just that walking home in the dark during a deluge didn't make that at all possible it seemed.

Unable to suppress the shivers going through him he nodded tentatively his appreciation when Burnett turned up the heaters and warm air blew around the cabin. Still it only just skimmed over the coldness seeping into his bones.

As he started his slog up the hill he had tried to ignore his toes squelching inside his sneakers and how his once baggy shirts and jeans clung to his skin in a chilling embrace. Now sitting in the van that's all he could feel.

When he was offered a towel he kept in check his surprise but as he took it he was thankful to be able to dry off his heavy mop of hair, to stop the ticklish sensation of water dripping down his neck into back of collar of his jacket.

Feeling a little ungrateful at his earlier reluctance to accept Burnett's offer of a lift he smiled his thanks. Burnett nodded, drinking in the flash of dimples and almond green-blue eyes. The crunching of gears grinding in the gearbox broke the silence, and Burnett face scrunched up his face in annoyance, "Things a bucket of rust."

"As long as it gets you from A to B and back again, that's all you really need," murmured back Sam eyes watching keenly the dark road ahead.

Burnett shrugged and started to drive at a leisurely pace up the long winding stretch of road chewing on a question before finally spitting out in a lazy draw, "So son, you care tell me where your daddy's been all week?"

As he watched Sam freeze he added pointedly, "You like lying to your elders like this? Telling fibs about your dad, your invisible uncle."

Sam turned away, his profile in sharp relief, his mind churning out possible answers and finding none that he felt like sharing with Burnett. Sometimes saying nothing was the best policy he reminded himself.

Sensing that he was being shutout Burnett sniffed out his annoyance and pressed down on the gas. His fingers clutched the steering wheel in a tight grip so that his knuckles stood out white in relief, as he asked tersely, "Cat got your tongue boy?"

Sam turned his face back to him, his eyes schooled for the coming confrontation, "My dad's business is his own Mr Burnett."

"Hmph! Maybe, but to just dump and run out on you like he has doesn't sit right with me. A youngster like you needs a man around to steer him straight."

Sam bristled at the suggestion and through clenched teeth tried to defend his father, "He's not dumped and run," and he added trying to end the conversation, "He's just been working late is all. He'll be back later tonight."

"Now if I thought that Samuel I wouldn't be giving you a lift right now," teased back Burnett.

Sam eyed the older man with clear distrust now his young face creased in a frown. He pointed to a spot up ahead and demanded, "Look Mr Burnett its clear you've got issues with my dad so I think it best you just let me off here."

Burnett's eyes darkened and a scowl lifted his chubby features as he continued to drive, "You really don't want me to do that son. I can help you."

"I don't think so, just pull over and let me out," growled back Sam hand on the door release readying to push it open if he had to and jump out. The guy really was starting to give off a bad vibe that made more than just his skin crawl.

Burnett ignored Sam's request and instead increased the van's speed daring a glance at the clearly rattled teen before turning his eyes back on the winding road.

He nibbled his lips slowly before he confessed, "You gotta understand that a man gets lonely for company when all he's got is some mealy mouthed woman nagging at him all day long. I always wanted my own boy, to do stuff with. Stuff that your daddy don't do with you I'm guessing."

"We do just fine," Sam shook his head in denial swallowing back his fear as he looped a hand over the strap of his backpack readying to make his escape. "My dad does plenty of stuff with me."

Laughing his disbelief Burnett leant into him and whispered teasingly, "Yeah sure he does. From what I see he doesn't give a rat's ass about you boy. Letting you walk home night after night in this filthy weather."

Sam bowed his head, hurt by the man's words but not willing to show him, "You don't know anything. Now let me out."

Burnett gave him a knowing look before dragging in a long inhale of air, as if taking in Sam's scent and a look of pleasure rippled across his face, "You smell good, of chocolate and vanilla. Anyone ever tell you that Sam? Just like those little treats I've been leaving you every time you popped in. I bet your daddy never does anything like that for you, does he? "

Sam's face lost all remaining colour as the mention of the goodies he would find in the grocery bag each time he got home. Turning a disbelieving look at the man he gasped out, "That was you? Oh my god I thought it was Nancy."

Burnett shook his head and leaned across to occupy more space next to Sam as he kept one hand on the steering wheel, breathing alcohol fumes over Sam. "Yeah, the fool girl dared to have a crush on you. But I caught her out and I spanked her behind so hard she still can't sit down without crying."

Sam shrank back his hand desperately pushing through the layers of books in an effort to the get to the bottom. In his pencil case he had some scissors and his fingers fumbled on the zip as he asked in disbelief. "You hit her?"

Boring eyes into Sam he sniggered, "Little whore won't dare try to take what's mine from me again."

Sam's head swam with confusion as he tripped over a question, his naivety to the man's intention transparent in his voice, "Why? Why carry on giving me stuff? I don't understand…."

Snaking out a large hand Burnett squeezed Sam's slim thigh in a tight grip, tight enough to leave a telling bruise, "Candy for such a sweet young boy like you just seemed fitting."

Yelping at the touch and implied suggestion Sam pried the heavy hand away, a crimson blush touching his cheeks, as he feared the presence of true evil by his side, "Oh my god. Christo!"

Burnett lifted an eyebrow, "Christo? Now that's a new one on me. All the boys I've had before just called me Ted or Eddie." He smiled in appreciation adding, "I like it, it can be my special name between us Samuel."

The monster before him was nothing more than a man Sam realised and he felt confused as what to do next. All his life he had been trained to face and fight against all the dark and supernatural creatures that his dad hunted but never this. Never just some ugly freakylletch of a man.

Finding his voice he finally spat out angrily, "You're nothing but some sicko pervert. Stop the van now!"

"Or what?" Burnett watched as Sam struggled to get out of the van, pushing desperately against his door which refused to open.

He grinned at the boy's panic as his hand idled over the central locking switches, before he added darkly, "You know you act all innocent but with that pretty face you wear and your soft mouth spilling lies so easily I bet you've learned to do all sorts of things."

He watched Sam freeze shaking his head in denial and he purred out, "Things we don't have to tell yer old man anything about. If you like they can be just be our little secret Sam."

Gasping at the suggestion Sam spun back anger taking over from his earlier panic, "Unlock this goddam door or I will hurt you."

Not impressed by the threat Burnett grabbed Sam's wrist and twisted it sharply causing a grunt of pain to escape from the teenager. "What's it gonna cost me boy? I've already sweetened things between us so I figure twenty bucks should cover it, right?"

"You've got to be kidding me you slimy bastard," cried out Sam who flinched on smelling the alcohol on his breath, "You're drunk man. Let me go now or I'll tell the cops."

Burnett's his attention now firmly on Sam grinned at his reaction. He leant closer into Sam, "Twenty dollars not enough for a fancy city boy like you? How about I up it to fifty for some extended playtime? Daddy's away so we can do an all-nighter."

Appalled at the proposal Sam twisted harder in his grip before the realisation took hold that the man was just too strong to struggle against. Instead he took a steadying breath and changed track to lean into the drunken man and head butted him hard, breaking his nose with a satisfyingly loud crack.

Burnett screamed out in pain letting go of Sam's wrist to touch gingerly at his broken nose, the hot splatters of blood dropping over his lips and chin in a warm rush an easy pointer to what the boy had just done to him. Nasally he snuffled out, "You little bitch. You broke my nose!"

Sam smirked openly at the bloodied man, "You be glad it's just your nose. When my dad gets hold of you he's so going to skin you alive."

The van wobbled dangerously for a moment on the slippery road as Burnett screamed out a litany of cuss words as one handed he tried to control the vehicle.

Realising just how dangerous the situation was Sam snaked out a hand to brace himself against the dashboard, "Stop the van man or you'll kill us both."

It was out of the corner of his eye that he saw the heavy metal wrench in Burnett's blood stained hand swing out in an arc towards his head and instinctively he ducked low. Sam felt the air slice above his head brushing the top aside in a false parting.

The wrench on missing its intended target connected against the passenger window instead. The glass shattered and the wind blew the heavy wash of rain into the cabin and Sam was unable to hold back his gasp of fear.

Before Burnett could swing again Sam regained enough composure to jab an elbow purposely upwards into the large man's throat and heard him gurgle out his surprise, struggling to pull in air, dropping the wrench at his feet.

Twisting in his seat Sam determined to face him head on as he pulled his scissors out the pencil case, the metal glinting a warning in the darkness, "You've picked on the wrong boy you disgusting pig. Try touching me again and I'll use these to cut off something you're really going to miss."

Burnett sucked in a large gulp of air ignoring the damage done to his larynx and bruised pride managing to choke out, "Christ sake boy it was only a little bit of fun is all. Put them down before things really do get nasty here. You already plumb broke my nose boy…."

Sam growled out his disbelief. "Like hell I will. You just tried to cave my head in with a goddam wrench. Now stop the van before I show just how nasty things can get."

It was unsettling to see such control in a boy his age as all his other past conquests had been far more docile and accommodating. He needed that control back and Burnett swung the steering wheel hard watching Sam slam hard against the passenger door with a rattled grunt of surprise, the scissors flying out of the shattered window as his hand hit the metal frame.

Laughing Burnett turned the wheel the other way only for his eyes to go wide in fear as he lost control. The heavy van slewed across the road, tires losing traction on the slippery tarmac, to race towards the bough of an old oak tree.

It happened so fast that Sam was unable to stop himself from being flung forwards, his skull smacking into the windshield and his world went with white with pain.

A few seconds later he groaned out loud and reached up a hand and felt an unsettling warmth seep through his fingers. His vision doubled as he looked at his fingers and saw them stained red.

**p0o0o0o0o0o**

Caleb waited. He drank bad coffee, paced the hallway, charmed the nurses so that they didn't have the heart to shoo him away every time he came and asked how it was going with his friend, and still he waited, whiling away the minutes into a full blown hours. Just how long did it take to stitch up someone sliced up by a freaking chupacabra anyways?

The dried blood under his fingernails was something to pick at as he sat impatiently in the waiting room, a thumbnail scoring under each nail bed to dig out the offending redness. Each nail was a reminder of just how badly he had screwed up here. Letting Dean play patty cake with Chuckie had been just plain dumb.

What the hell had he been thinking here? The moment he saw what it was he should have had them hightail it back to the motel. Regroup and reassess their options. Get a new game plan written up. Not run gun-ho up against a creature he knew little to nothing about. It was just by stupid dumb luck that Dean had managed to get a clean shot and take its head clean off its shoulders when he did.

Slopping dejectedly further into his chair he ran a hand through his long hair and a sigh escaped. Eying the clock he whispered out, "Come on Dean. We made a deal and I really don't want to have to call your dad. He's so gonna skin me alive here dude."

After another half an hour he saw the green clad legs first as the ER doctor approach and he lifted his head up anxiously to see the bald headed forty something doctor he had first met on his arrival. "How is he? How's my cousin?"

The doctor gave him a small smile indicating that things had gone okay, "Remarkably good despite the blood loss and the damage to his back and more."

"Yes! There is a god," Caleb jumped to his feet and punched the air in relief, "When can I get him out of here?"

"Not so fast. Some of those wounds were deep, tore through muscle and need expert attention. The surgical team are still stitching him up. The way that animal sliced into he's lucky he didn't bleed to death. When he comes to he's going to be inconsiderable pain and discomfort for a good few days to say the least and we have to watch out for the possibility of infection."

"But he'll live right?"

"Yes son, he'll live and will have the scars to prove it," chuckled the doctor in response. "Poor kid took a few mean slices to his derriere and won't be sitting comfortable till the stitches come out."

Caleb's face exploded in a wide smile of relief at not having to make that dreaded phone call to John Winchester just yet and he hurriedly shook the bemused doctor's hand warmly. "Thank you sir. You're a lifesaver in more ways than you can imagine."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

"You better pray your worth it," snarled out Burnett as he tried to draw in enough breath from his battered ribcage after impacting with the steering wheel.

Noting the blood pouring from the stunned boy's scalp he dipped a finger into the line of blood dripping onto his dashboard he sucked his teeth in annoyance. "Look at the mess you've made of yourself boy. How much fun are yer going to be now?"

Panicked by voice in his ear Sam managed to pull himself up straight and wildly threw a punch at the man, connecting a solid right hook to the man's jaw. He heard the satisfying smack of his knuckles against bone and was rewarded with a grunt of pain from the large man.

Taking the man's shaken stance as his opportunity for escape Sam shook the cobwebs away in his head and hauled his slim frame through the broken passenger window. A hand tugged on his foot but he kicked back and he was free to topple on to the ground with a thud, his body rolling down the sloping incline till he came to a stop in the dense undergrowth.

With shaky legs he drew himself up pointedly ignoring the screaming hiss of white noise in his head and hurriedly tried to climb back onto the roadside. His feet found little purchase in the mud and he found himself stumbling forwards blindly to fall on his knees just as he reached the edge of the road.

A rivulet of pink ran down his face, the scoring rain mixing with the blood from his free flowing scalp wound and he tried to blink it aside to see ahead, only to blanch at finding the solid figure of Burnett now blocking his path.

Before he could react rough hands grabbed at his collar and he felt himself lifted off his knees to become airborne.

Burnett snarled out his anger as he tossed him through the air, "You want to play hard to get do you little boy?"

Sam couldn't stop himself from sailing over the hood of the van to hit the tree with a sickening thud, all the air being expelled from his lungs at the impact. "Oh god," he thought bleakly to himself as his back felt like it was on fire, "The freaking madman is going to kill me."

Gasping as pain shot up his spine he stood on wobbly legs pushing himself up with support of the van, and found enough strength to shout out, "My dad is going to kill you, you sick sonofabitch."

"Your daddy doesn't give a damn about you boy. If he did he would be here to stop from what happens next to you," taunted Burnett all the while trying to snatch at Sam again.

Sam managed to see through his sodden bangs the large hands snaking towards him and skittered away to the driver's side of the van. Brushing his hair away from his eyes with a shaky forearm hope flared inside him as he saw the glint of metal by the gas pedal.

Burnett for a large man though could move surprisingly fast and before Sam could pick up the wrench he felt a heavy forearm loop around his neck and he was forced to stand again.

Struggling weakly as the airflow became restricted Sam was pushed on to his stomach as Burnett used his larger frame to keep him pinned down on the hood. Whispering darkly in his ear he spat out warning, "You gotta learn the rules of the game boy and I'm a-thinking you need to learn them the hard way."

Fingers fisted into the back of his head and Sam scrunched up his face in pain, a small yelp escaping from his lips, and before he could resist his forehead was slammed down to smack against metal turning his world white again.

Dazed Sam felt himself slipping back down on to his knees as Burnett stood over him, fingers still entwined in his bloodied hair to stop his complete collapse, "Should have taken my offer of an easy fifty bucks boy. Would have hurt a whole lot less…."

"Screw you," gasped out Sam defiantly, all the while struggling to get back control of his leaden limbs and work through the spikes of pain thrumming his body.

"Think it's supposed to be the other way round," Burnett smirked down at him, pinning him down across the hood again with his greater weight, "You ready to play nice now?"

Sucking in breath Sam shook his head in denial, managing despite the pain slicing through his skull to stammer out his defiance, "My dad ….will kill you, you creep. It's what he does."

Burnett flipped Sam onto his back to meet his victorious stare, "Your dad offered you up on a plate boy leaving you all alone like he did. Maybe I should slip him the fifty bucks instead and wink my thanks next time I see him."

Sam blinked back his tears at the man's cruel words, "No, no. He's gonna shoot you dead mister….salt and burn your sorry bones."

Smiling at the boy's continued defiance he couldn't keep the tremble of anticipation from his fingers as he slowly traced a path over Sam's fearful face, touching the wet flesh gently as he travelled along the outline of his cheekbone before touching his clamped resisting lips, resting bruising fingers on the soft flesh.

Sam tried to twist away from his touch and Burnett pressed his body hard over his, "I think you're worth taking that risk. As for your daddy, you ain't gonna tell him a damn thing if you know what's best for you."

As if to reinforce his control he wiped a palm over Sam's forehead and licked the pink fluid off suggestively. "I knew you'd taste as sweet as you look Sam. I think you've teased me long enough boy, having me watch you walk home to that empty house every night this week. Ain't natural for a pretty little thing like you."

Sam stilled at his words and anger rather than fear ran through his veins like molten lava. All his years of training took over and the strength and a frightening purpose flowed back into his limbs. Winchesters weren't raised to play victim to no one. Not ever.

Burnett would have seen the change on his face, seen the dark fury in his eyes, if the rain hadn't thrown a blanket between them. He felt it though as Sam jerked up his knee sharply into his crotch and threw another head butt at his already broken nose.

The pain was intense, like nothing he had ever experienced before, eliciting a sharp high pitched hiss as he staggered backwards, cupping his groin with one hand and his nose with the other.

Sam followed it through with hefty jab to his face, splitting the skin of his knuckles but it was worth it as Burnett wobbled before falling backwards on to his ass in the rain.

Rolling back to the driver's doorway Sam reached down and hastily snatched up the wrench, a moment of satisfaction flitting across his features at the heavy weight in his hand.

It would be so easy to swing it hard and cave the bastard's head in, but he hesitated. His family killed all the time, all the dark and dangerous creatures of this world, but never a man.

Burnett got back on to his feet and shook his head, eyeing the bloodied teenager with a sneer but paused at seeing the wrench held purposely in his hand, "Come on Sammy boy, put it down before I have to hurt you some more."

"It's Sam you fat bastard and your days of hurting kids are over. Best start running, all the way out of the state, hell out the country cos' it won't be far enough to keep you safe from my dad," snarled back Sam willing his knees to stay locked to stop him falling flat on his face, "You hear me Burnett. You're a dead man walking."

Burnett felt fear flicker through, assessing the boy with fresh eyes. If what the boy was saying was true he really had screwed up big time here. Backing slowly away he realised that for the first time in over fifteen years he had underestimated his intended victim and it was downright scary to see the strength of will flowing out of the boy.

The boy's faith in his dad was also unnerving and the threat that he was coming home tonight made his whole body tremble. "Look I'm sorry. Got a little liquored up is all. Crazy drunk. Makes me do bad things…"

The boy who had looked such an easy target only minutes backs looked different now. He had an edge to him that made his stomach roll uneasily. Even injured he looked ready to kill him. Looked capable of killing him in fact. Just like his dad perhaps.

The coward in him made him take flight and he started to run back down the road. Leaving his smashed up van behind, running away being his only option now. He had to get home, pack up a bag and get going before the shit really did hit the fan and all his dark little secrets came flying out. Before John Winchester made good his son's threats.

Sam visibly sagged as he watched the big man take off, his legs shaking so badly that he stumbled backward to perch his backside on the driver's seat. He couldn't understand why his body was trembling violently now, couldn't think of why his chest felt so tight that his heart felt ready to explode or how heavy the wrench now felt in his hand.

All he could think of was how close to killing a man he had come. His stomach finally rebelled and vomited splattered the ground by his feet.

As the last heave left him he squinted to look through the rain, making sure that Burnett remained gone. He spat out the sour saliva in his mouth and tried to assess his injures. His back felt sore, his legs unsteady but as he stood up his head felt marginally better. Maybe not a concussion after all, just a case of a serious head butting that had rattled his brains good and proper. He laughed at the idea, not a happy sound but more an escape of repressed anguish.

The noise of an approaching engine and the bright lights of headlights made him scurry behind the oak and he watched in alarm as a dark car skewed to a sharp halt. A boy a few years older than him got out and studied the smashed up trunk his face hidden under a baseball cap. He looked into the cab the light moulding his features and Sam realised it was one of the seniors on the football team.

Frowning he noticed the bottle of Jack Daniels in the older boy's hands and then his blood froze at hearing his tear filled voice choke out "When I saw it was your van Burnett I really hoped…." The boy straightened up and took a final slug from the bottle before he confessed, "I hoped you were finally dead you sick fucker."

The bottle smashed to the ground and the boy returned to his car tears running freely down his face. Sam stood back more than a little shaken at the boy's reaction to seeing the smashed up van. His head throbbed as he watched the car take off down the road weaving erratically, but he was able to a make a guess that the driver must have been hurt by Burnett in the past. Feeling the nauseas return he swallowed back acid and was left to wonder just how many more there were out there who hadn't been able to beat off Burnett in the past?

He got up to leave but he froze as fresh sounds travelled up the road. The high pitched squeal of tires followed by a large thud made him flinch as something large was hit, before the screeching of rubber on the wet road could be heard again and the sound of a car tearing off into the distance became fainter and fainter.

In his minds eye he could imagine what had just happened but he had to see it physically for himself and in a slow half jog, despite the reluctance of his battered body, he started back down the road. When he came round the bend he drew to halt on seeing the twisted body of Burnett in the middle of the road, eyes open filling with rain water as they stared vacantly up at him and he felt nothing but contempt for him. Whatever justice had just been meted out to him was surely well deserved.

Tiredly he put the grisly sight to the back of his mind and turned back around to head once again to the smashed up van. The police were sure to be involved now and he didn't need to leave any clues to his presence inside the van.

Hastily he used the towel to wipe away the blood pooled on the dash board and hoped the rain flooding into the cabin would continue to wash any other things that might point to him. Ignoring the pain in his back he reached across and picked up his backpack and groceries, thinking that for sure his dad would kill him if he got the cops on their back because he was dumb enough to leave evidence behind.

As he started on the now considerably shorter walk home his thoughts lingered on what to tell his dad. To say that he would be pissed with him for letting himself get into such a dangerous situation was going to be an understatement. That much he was sure of.

By the time he reached the cabin the rain had started to ease but that didn't lift the burden of yet another failure resting on his shoulders. Dean would never have let this happen to him and he knew that his dad would remind him sooner rather than later of this fact.

Thinking on his brother Sam chewed on his bottom lip, suppressing any tears, wishing for all the world that he had his invincible big brother walking beside him right now. To tell him hopefully that everything was going to be okay, readying to have his back when dad kicked off big time.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

It was the cold that revived him. The chill seeping into his bones that caused him to shiver uncontrollably and bring him back to consciousness. His teeth chattering in his head he tried to make sense of why he was lying on the ground shivering his ass off.

He could remember his drive over to the bar. Then he could recall trying to call his sons with no success and the worry that went with it before the sudden determination to get back to his youngest set in. He had left the bar and there was nothing else till he had opened his eyes to find himself lying on the ground.

"Sammy…" he murmured softly on thinking of his youngest, his face screwing up in pain as the mother of all headaches thumped on the back of his head. He had let his guard down, more worried about his baby boy to sense the danger until it was on top of him. Cursing himself he shook his head, "Damn fool that's what you were Winchester."

Slowly John lifted his head to see where he was and his mouth went dry. The altar that came into view as he looked up gave him his first clue, but the dank earth on which he lay meant it wasn't in some holy blessed chapel. Gnarled roots peaking out of the dirty brown walls and ceiling was another pointer to the fact that he was somewhere underground.

He struggled to sit up but his hands were bound behind his back and he toppled ignobly back to the ground and his nostrils flared, sucking in the damp peaty air.

"Shit," he muttered out angrily, testing the bonds around his wrists and finding no give.

A boot appeared by his face and he eyed suspiciously the tip of it before it dug into his shoulder and forcibly rolled him over onto his back.

Grunting back his pain as his spine jarred against the rough floor he looked up, daring to eyeball his attacker and he spat out his disbelief as Sheriff McCall's deputy Jerry stood over him, "You? You have got to be kidding me here."

Straddling John the man grinned happily down at him, "I think He is going to enjoy having you as his dinner guest the most. Lasagne and glass of something red and warm is on the menu tonight."

"I'm more of a cold beer and a steak and potato man myself," grumbled back John, angling the small blade he had snuck out from the back of his waistband to worry at the ropes around his wrists.

Jerry bent down and waggled a finger tellingly at him, "Oh and lets not forget just how fond of pie you are too Winchester."

"Yeah that too," grinned back John. "Gonna get me a nice hot apple pie with ice-cream when I've finished up here."

Jerry stepped back shaking his head bemused by his lack of fear. "He said that you hunters were stupid, that you always try to interfere with his divine plans. That you don't show any respect for the work he does. Not unless he's tearing your throats out with a rusty blade or dragging your intestines out through your pompous asses."

"Sounds painful," answered John in mock agreement. "I quite like my guts to stay on the inside if you get my drift."

Jerry looked down at him, "Tell me where the Pastor is and He might let you live a little bit longer. The pesky little bugger won't answer his cell and he's last of you hunters that needs to be round up. My thinking is that he's ran away with the tail between his legs like the mangy dog he is."

John smiled at the implication behind his words. Jim was still out there, readying no doubt to cause a whole bag of trouble for the demon and his cronies if he had to hazard a guess.

Slowly he turned his head up to take a closer look around the chamber and in the shadows he saw the still figure of Aubrey Leeson on the ground, tied up much the same as he was. "He still alive?"

"Sleeping like a baby is all, for now anyway," sniggered back Jerry. "You bastards thought you had it all sussed out, didn't you? Get Him to leave the sanctity of his church using those idiots in jail as a lure and I was foolish enough to let you sway me for a while. Let me think that he was doing harm, but you don't know him as I do now. "

"He's a freaking demon Jerry. What more do I need to know?"

"No, I let you colour my thinking before I knew the joy of his touch. The wonder of his sweet words," muttered back Jerry his enraptured expression just too much for John to swallow.

"Oh shit man he's double whammied you, I thought you stronger than that. What did he promise you dude? Did he tell you what the true cost really is? That you will burn in hell like all the other little idiots he's suckered in over the millennium."

Jerry blinked slowly, shaking his head slowly, "I… no, he's nothing like that you filthy liar. He wheedles out the sinners, rewards the righteous. He came to me especially you see. Knew that I could help him."

"When did he do that? When did he come to you?" asked John wondering for just how long their operation on 'Kill-the-bad-ass-demon' had been compromised.

Jerry paused before kneeling down to stare back at John, "I see it all now after last night, when he came to me and reached inside of me, made me hear His words so that I might understand their meaning. Now I fell them burning inside of me like fire. Cleansing me of my past sins, promising the joys that only he can bring about."

John answered back, hoping to keep the enthralled man preoccupied enough for him to not notice as his bonds loosened, "Listen to me Deputy O'Brien, your soul is at stake here. You have a family. I heard you talking about your wife, that you're expecting your third baby. Think man. All that will be lost when he tears your family apart and takes you back down to hell with him."

"They don't matter. He is my family now, nothing matters but doing His will. That is reward enough."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Sam stood in the shower willing the hot water to burn away the coldness he felt in the very marrow of his bones but still couldn't halt the shivers that worked through him. It wasn't until the water started to run cold that he stepped out and wrapped a flimsy towel around him.

Teeth still chattering he started to dry himself off wincing as the towel hit sore flesh on his back. Twisting his torso around he tried to assess the damage and sucked in a large intake of air of surprise. There was large collection of bruises forming from the tip of his shoulder blades downwards to the base of his spine and in the hollow of his back was an area of scraped skin red and puffy. Realising that he had no means of getting a dressing on it he slowly dragged on a t-shirt hoping that would keep the wound dry and clean.

Next he lifted up his bangs and scrutinised the thankfully now slowly bleeding head wound buried in the hair line above his left temple and knew that no way in hell was he going to be able to thread a needle a stitch the wound up. His hands were shaking too much for that. Instead he applied after a dozen attempts a few butterfly strips to seal it shut.

By the time he had finished up his whole body ached but with the addition of sock and jogging pants, and after wrapping himself up in a blanket he dared to feel warm again.

Sitting by the open stove he wondered what to do next. Who to call first? Or did he dare to call anyone to confess his mistakes tonight?

"You have to tell him," he answered out loud to his own inner fears and taking his courage in his hands he picked up the phone and called his dad.

When it went to voicemail he stalled. The hard tone to his dad's voice, the clipped brusque message made all his doubts real again.

Ending the call without daring to leave a message he shook his head, blinking back hot tears. What the hell had he been thinking? Dad just wouldn't understand, in fact he would hate him even more by proving to be so freaking weak. The proverbial screw up as always.

He closed his eyes remembering the vacant stare of Burnett's face as he lay dead in the road and he drew his knees up to his chin shaking his head in denial. The man was dead, his dad need never know.

Still the need to speak to the only person he trusted to perhaps tell the truth couldn't be ignored. "Come on Dean," he begged down the line as he called his big brother. "I don't want to do this on my own anymore."

When Caleb picked up instead of his brother Sam felt his world spinning again but he managed to stutter out, "Umm Caleb is Dean there, can I speak to him?"

"Sorry Sam. He's a little indisposed at the moment," answered Caleb cagily as he took the call into the bathroom, not wanting the beep of the monitors by Dean's bedside to alert the kid to just where they were.

The last thing he needed was Sam to get back to his father that his brother had been hurt. Not just yet anyways till he had a chance to talk to Dean and see how he wanted things to play things out. A deal was a deal after all.

"Oh," said Sam softly realising suddenly the lateness of the hour, "Guess he's hooked up with a girl or something, right?"

Cringing Caleb bit his bottom lip hating to lie to the boy. The fact was that Dean was out for the count, sleeping happy dreams high on a cocktail of drugs. Coughing slightly he tried to cover up his lie, "Yeah something like that. You know what your brother is like…"

"Anything in a skirt," whispered back Sam, willing the tears to remain unshed. Dean would hate for him to start blubbing down the line to Caleb. It just wasn't a Winchester thing to do.

"Yeah, his lower brain functions always seem to win out dude," chuckled back Caleb softly.

When there was no response Caleb frowned, "Hey Sam you okay kid? You still getting a hard time from your old man. Is that it?"

Sam clenched the blanket tighter to him suddenly feeling cold again and admitted, "He's not here."

"Well I heard he sent Joshua your way. It's Friday night kiddo get the tight wad to swing for a pizza and a movie in town."

"Maybe," lied back Sam, not willing to rat out the absent hunter.

Caleb paused, running a tired hand over his face. "Look Sam I'll get your brother when he's in a fit enough state to call you right back. Okay? Don't let your dad get you down, you hear me? He doesn't mean half the things he says to you at times."

Sam sucked in a breath, "Yeah he does and maybe he's right, maybe I'm not worth a quarter my weight in salt." Shaking his head he drew in a steadying breath, "Look don't bother telling Dean I called. Let him have his fun. Bye Cal."

Caleb frowned as the line went dead. The boy seemed in a whole world of emotional pain that much was clear from his voice, and remembering his own teenage years and run ins with his own father he could guess what that pain was all about.

Sitting on the edge of the toilet seat he shook his head and muttered under his breath, "Don't let him beat you down kiddo. I'll get your brother back to you as soon as I can."

**TBC**

_Feedback as always warmly appreciated. _


	6. Chapter 6

_Usual disclaimer apply. Again another long chapter with all mistakes frighteningly all my own. Huge mega thanks for such warm reviews, all the while knowing I haven't managed to get back to you one and all as yet, but I will once I kick RL to the curb. _

**Growing Pains**

**Chapter 6: Rain**

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Sam bowed his head to his knees thankful that he had swallowed a couple of painkillers a few hours back. The spiking throbs in his head and back had dulled enough for him to sit on the sofa and pretend that the T.V. was good enough company to keep the misery he felt inside at bay.

Peeping a look at the window he could see that daybreak in all its bleak greyness had come about. Cold light streamed in and still the rain kept falling, and he sighed left wondering if it was ever going to stop.

The beating pattern on the windows was a persistent reminder of the reason why he had gotten into the mess with Burnett in the first place and he ground his teeth in annoyance at the constant sound. He just wished it gone now. If it stopped then maybe he could try and forget everything of last night.

Pulling the blanket up to his chin Sam shivered as he struggled to keep the chill at bay. By the way his limbs kept on trembling he doubted if his would ever feel warm again and he felt more than a little weak at not being able to control the way his body had been reacting.

Despite his youth Sam knew that his body was reacting to more than just the after affects of last night, his body was hurt but more than that it was tired. Bone wearily tired that a whole week of broken sleep caused.

Rubbing the grit from his eyes he yearned for the refuge of sleep but that had improved impossible yet again. This time the nightmare was real, had a shape and recognisable intent as Burnett's disfigured presence invaded his dreams every time he dared drift off.

The dream was always the same. In the darkness, on the wet road, the shopkeeper's broken body one moment inert would suddenly jerk spasmodically back on to his feet by invisible strings. It was a nightmarish marionette dancing on broken legs in midair before impossibly long arms would wrap around him to keep him imprisoned as his foul mouth hissed out a stream of vicious words.

Every time those fearful arms wrapped around him Sam had managed to struggle free to wake up with small sobs of denial on his lips.

Burnett's words weren't true he kept on telling himself. Yet no matter how he tried to dismiss them an undercurrent of doubt lingered in his head. The evil man's words had hit their mark and scored deeply into his psyche, just like his dad's word had back in Santa Barbara.

_Your daddy just dumped and run. _

'_Too needy, to goddam needy'_ he heard his father's voice growl out in acknowledgement besides Burnett's whispered asides.

_I always wanted my own boy, to do stuff with. Stuff that your daddy don't do with you I'm guessing._

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Jim looked at his watch and supped at his coffee his blue eyes mirroring his worry. The expected phone call hadn't come which meant that things were going south fast with the demon. Yet again. Apparently even the likes of a demon had taste and the Murdochs were not much proving much of a draw, if at all.

"Jeb you old fart, I always you knew you were just a bag of wind," he growled into his coffee. "Seems like this creature is of the same opinion."

He chuckled humourlessly to himself before he thumbed his redial again and got Johns' voicemail and he could only guess at the reason.

If he had been a less experienced hunter he might have left the sanctuary of the diner on the outskirts of town to find out just what was happening, but he knew he needed back up. So he waited for his old friend to turn up.

Cunning and a pinch of patience was needed if he was going to get any of this mess fixed. This time round he was determined not to make the mistakes of Cedar Creek. That ugly sonofabitch was not going to use the word of God anymore to wreak its damage.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

As the weak rays from the morning light drifted in Sam tried to shake off the lethargy eating away at his bones. It was Saturday after all and things needed to be done. His dad would be back soon and the list of chores he had left him with had barely been touched.

Chopping the stack of wood his dad had earmarked as one of his more favoured chores just wasn't possible with his back hurting so much but cleaning out the weapon collection was still doable.

Sam took in a long breath readying to get his day started. Without thinking he pushed tired fingers through the tangle of his bangs to clear a path for his eyes only to hiss out loud as the softly formed scab on his forehead throbbed sharply in a reminder of last night's encounter with a windshield.

"Damn it," Sam cursed out loud at feeling a warm trickle start down from his scalp. Hastily he skimmed his fingers over the liquid trail before pressing his thumb hard on the cut willing for it to stop.

He knew the wound had needed stitches but that was still beyond his skill right now as his vision still teetered on double vision if he concentrated on anything for any length of time. Pressing harder he ignored the pain it elicited hoping for the scab to clot over again and wondered just how he was supposed to keep this from his dad or anyone else.

As the cut refused to stop bleeding he tried to weigh up his options again before reality stepped in to remind himself that he was really on his own with this one.

Calling his brother he knew would be just plain selfish. Dean had enough on his plate without having to worry about his sorry butt. The hunt in Florida wasn't going as planned, that much he had been able to pick up on and the last thing his brother needed was the revelation of his stupid mistakes.

Any unnecessary distractions for a hunter could prove to be the slim divide between staying safe or ending up dead. And Burnett would be one hell of a distraction he reasoned.

As for dad, well he wasn't that stupid to even think of going down that route. After trying to call him last night and thankfully him not picking up all he could think was that he had been given a reprieve.

Despite what Pastor Jim might harp on about confession being good for the soul he had never been John Winchester's less than favoured screw up of a younger son had he? So yes, 'silence was freaking golden' right about now and the longer it stayed like that the better.

Grimly he ignoring the pull on his aching muscles as he staggered back onto his feet. The loss of the blanket as it fell back off his shoulders brought fresh shivers but on feeling the warmth still trickling through his fingers he ignored the cold and made his way back to the bathroom.

Blood after all could no longer be ignored. It was a too visual a marker to what had happened the night before.

By now he guessed that Burnett's body had been found and the van too. The last thing he needed was for the cops to do a neighbourhood house-to-house asking questions to see him standing there with blood dripping down his face. Even the most stupid of LEO's would make the connection and a trip to Juvvie court was more than likely on the cards.

It took him a while to shuffle back to the bathroom as his back was once again on fire, muscles protesting with each stiff step. By the time he reached the small room he was wheezing like an old man. He gripped the basin and looked into mirror and smile grimly at his reflection, "Well you like crap."

Having been sleep deprived for almost a week from nightmares old and now new he sported long dark smudges under his eyes. Worst though was that his once golden tan had vanished to be replaced by a grey sheen to his skin to match the Wisconsin weather perfectly.

Only a month ago he had been the picture of health and now he looked like death warmed up. California and all its benefits seemed like a lifetime ago now. The memories of warm sands, of surfing buddies and a pretty girl by his side fading so fast that he was struggling to put as predicted names to their once so familiar faces.

"When did I get so stupid?" Sam offered up to the image in the mirror before he pulled the emergency kit open again. He had to use both hands to get the lid open and the blood dripped from his forehead into the basin in soft splashes.

Sam pressed an antiseptic wipe up to the wound hissing at the sting, but carried on muttering a bitter monologue, "After Cali all you had to do was shut your mouth, keep your head down and not cause trouble. Yeah easy as eating pie unless your name happens to Sam-I'm-a-fucking-screw-up-Winchester. Burnett caught you hook line and sinker."

Angrily he pushed the bangs away to inspect the wound clearer and shook his head. The butterfly strips of last night had fallen off and he was left with a dark congealing scab which had lifted at the top end the to spill fresh blood. He knew it really needed a couple of stitches but the thought of trying to do them himself made his stomach roil.

Digging back into the emergency kit he fumbled for some more butterfly strips. Again his hands shook so much that the simple act of applying a couple of the strips took ten attempts and he felt exhausted by the end of it all.

"It will have to do," muttered Sam to himself as he let his bangs fall down again. Wetting a small hand towel he washed out the clotting blood from his hair and face and felt marginally more human again as he came up looking clean and undamaged.

Any sense of relief was soon lost as he took onboard the mess he had made in the small bathroom in just a matter of minutes. The basin was stained red and he had also left sticky crimson fingerprints on everything he had touched.

Gulping back his fear Sam knew his dad would go mental at him if he came back to this mess.

Hurriedly he started to wipe the evidence away, taking extra care with the area around the sink and the emergency kit. His dad's sharp eyes would spot blood at even if wasn't in clear view. Sinking down to his knees Sam ignored the pain pulsating in his back and head and cleaned under the basin and the surrounding floor.

Satisfied when all seemed to be back in order he pulled himself upright again courtesy of the basin and then frowned at the now pink towel in his hand. Is eyes travelled down to see the fresh blood staining the t-shirt that he was wearing and his face wrinkled in disgust, "Oh just great, now I have to do a load of freaking washing as well."

It took him awhile to get the t-shirt off him as the material had stuck to the weeping scrape on the small of his back and he had to peel it away millimetre by millimetre. Then he had to fight through the pain barrier to slowly tug the garment up his back and over his battered shoulders. By the time he was finished his whole body glistened with sweat and his breath came out in a small sharp pants.

"Would have been easier to cut it off you dork," Sam huffed out in annoyance as he walked back to the kitchen and placed his dirty clothes and towels in the only modern convenience the place possessed – a washing machine. Thankful for this one small mercy Sam poured in the soap powder and turned the dial to the hottest wash.

Ignoring its laboured sounds as the ancient machine started its wash cycle Sam pulled off a shirt of the drier by the stove. It felt good as it glided over his cold skin the warmth an easy comfort blanket.

The throb in his back was now a constant and he swallowed back a couple of more painkillers with a glass of water. He felt nauseated as the water hit the back of his throat but refused to expel the tablets. Chugging back the rest of the glass he tried to keep his breathing easy, ignoring the urge to vomit once again.

Thinking that he needed to ease away the knots in his shoulders he started to rotate them only to be met with sharp stabbing pains at the movement, "Okay not such a good idea," spat out Sam as he blinked back tears as fire travelled up his bruised muscles.

Hunching over the kitchen sink he started to count back from twenty to distract his thoughts away from the pain. His voice sounded loud in his ears but by the time he had counted back to three he was able to straighten up again and he shook his head disparagingly, "Stop being such a wuss. You've had worse dude."

Sam needed a distraction from his body's hurts and glanced down to the list of chores his dad expected completed before his return and smiled ruefully. The carpentry repairs to the veranda would have to wait but there was something he could do sitting down. Putting aside the list he carefully bent down to reach under the kitchen table and hauled up a large canvas bag. He grunted at its weight and dropped it onto the table with a loud huff.

For the next few hours he checked, cleaned and polished his way through an arsenal of weapons wondering if any other fifteen year old in the state would find this a normal Saturday morning activity.

A lot of the kids in his school he knew would be waking up today with only thoughts of shopping in the Mall, hooking up for pizza before heading over to the centre of town for the big game later on and the parties to follow. He had brushed aside the invites that still came his way as politely as he could. With only some loose change in his pockets he was going nowhere fast. Besides its not what his dad would expect of him, goofing of for a day of fun. Hunting came first, and everything and everybody else came a very poor second.

It was midday by the time he had finished with the weapons. He had taken as much care as possible to do everything to the expected high standards his dad set. A sloppy job would only make him even more pissed off.

As he put the canvas bag back under the table his stomach rumbled but the thought of eating just made him want to heave. Instead he stood up slowly and decided to check all the wards of protection he was supposed to maintain. He couldn't trust himself after last night not to have made a mistake with them too and diligently he started to check each line of salt, the sigils of protection, the almost invisible marks that were supposed to keep him safe.

The last room he checked was his father's. The curtains were drawn, leaving the room in semi darkness. As he wondered over to the window he checked the salt lines thankful that they were sound. He looked at the bed, higher off the ground than his own and wanted nothing more than to sink down on it and sleep the rest of the day away.

Giving into temptation he slowly sunk onto the mattress and nestled his head into it the pillow with a soft sigh of appreciation. His nose wrinkled as it held a familiar masculine scent. It gave off a reminder of a time when he had felt safe in the sureness that his dad was around to stop all the ill hurts of this world from ever touching him.

Sam closed his eyes trying to remember the last time his dad had held him. He had been deprived of it for so long he forgotten its strength, of the familiar calloused hand clasping his shoulder the way he did with Dean on the odd show of affection or approval.

There was no such recent memories for him to draw on, only his dad's constant disapproval and reminders of what a disappointment he was turning out to be and suddenly he felt empty inside.

Reluctantly he turned his face away from the pillow feeling just a little bit silly at feeling such a need for comfort. For such approval.

Then the desire to escape the room and his father's powerful presence became overwhelming and Sam abruptly sat back up, and despite his head spinning and his back screaming its protestation he quickly left the room, shutting the door purposely behind him as he went.

"_No good you get all maudlin' Sammy boy,' a voice snidely crowed behind him as he left, "He don't give a rats ass about you anyway"_

Sam shook his head in denial at the taunt. Burnett really had really tried to do a number on him but deep down he didn't know a thing about John Winchester, _his_ dad. He had to believe that the man really did really care or why drag him along to Wisconsin in the first place?

Maybe if he just knuckled down and tried to be more like Dean things would get better again between them and then he could prove Burnett was wrong. That he was good enough to get back the hand on his shoulder, the nod of approval, the look of respect in his eyes that he favoured Dean with.

If he was going to get back that respect he had to deal with what happened last night. Burnett was his problem now. No one else.

Sucking on his top lip he leant into the wall in the dark corridor thoughts now concentrating on Burnett and the potential problems that came with it. There was after all a dead man out there, an angry spirit in the making. The sort of thing his dad hunted down all the time.

'Yep dad you're your going to be so proud of me, I've got you a potentially a new gig and all it cost was a few freebie candy bars ' he laughed hollowly to himself.

Sam rolled his eyes at the thought of Burnett coming back to literally haunt him. Now that would just suck big time. What would be ideal was if he had the means to salt and burn the freaks sorry corpse but he didn't think the coroner's office would be at all obliging on that request front right about now.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Caleb flashed a knowing grin at Dean as he watched the nurse leave with more than a blush to her cheeks. He slouched into the chair by his bed and laughed softly, "You really are enjoying this way too much man."

Dean twisted his head round to look up at his friend a twinkle in his eyes, "Not my fault she keeps wanting to inspect my stitches. Personally I think she just wants to keep running her fingers over my mighty fine ass."

Caleb almost choked on his coffee and the scalding liquid spilled over the lip of the Styrofoam cup to burn his fingers. Quickly he put the coffee down before it could do more damage wiping his wet fingers down his jeans. "God Dean… less of the imagery please before I go blind."

Dean sighed hating that he had to view the world from this strange angle. He was flat on his stomach and it was as boring as hell. "So when are you going to spring me from here?"

"When you can sit on your butt and not pull any stitches. That's when." Caleb leant in and patted his head in mock affection, "Teach you to hang out your ass for target practice in the first place."

"Never thought that fugly thing could move so fast," he admitted as he squirmed to get comfortable before adding, "Man this really sucks."

Caleb nodded in agreement, "So you ready to tell your dad what's happened?"

"Hell no! And don't you dare let Sam know either. The little runt will make my life unbearable especially when he finds out exactly where I got sliced up."

Caleb nodded his understanding. "Listen you know he rang the other night when you were flying high as a kite, you should ring him back. The kid sounded like he needed to talk to his big brother if you get my drift."

Dean seemed to think on the suggestion before shaking his head as the tanoy in the corridor called 'Code Blue' followed by the heavy fall of footsteps slapping down on the vinyl floor as the medics responded. "Naw, I don't want to freak him. You know the kid is a born worrier and will blow this all out of proportion. Leave it a day or two till I'm out of here."

Shrugging his shoulders Caleb took a long sip of his coffee his eyes betraying his misgivings. "You know your brother best I suppose."

Dean looked at him hard, "Damn right I do. Sam has enough to deal with a new school and dad at the moment. He doesn't need to have more crap plied on his plate because I was stupid enough to get sliced and diced."

"Stupid is right. Next time we face off against a …."

Dean snorted out loud and interrupted him, "You think there is going to be a next time! No man if I never see one of those ugly critters again it will be too soon. Give me a good old fashioned poltergeist any time."

Caleb couldn't help but laugh and all thoughts and worries about the youngest Winchester were momentarily forgotten as he listened to Dean's monologue about what monsters he was willing to face down and those that were firmly at top of list of avoidance.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

John felt the ropes give around his wrists as the knife did its work and cast a lazy glance up at Deputy readying to seize his moment. "So your lord and master planning a little visit any time soon?"

"All in good time John." The deputy looked at his watch and called out up the stairs. "Harry get you ass down here."

A burly man appeared after a few seconds and John guessed he was the muscle side of the team that had snatched him and Leeson. O'Brien walked to the centre of the room, his eyes still on the prone Winchester as he asked his partner, "You find him yet?"

"No Jerry. He might have already gotten out of town."

O'Brien shook his head, "I very much doubt that, especially if he knows we have his friends. What about the sheriff? He hold up at the jail with those Murdoch idiots?"

Harry shrugged not sure of just where the other men now where and O'Brien smacked him in disgust on the side of the head. "I told you they needed watching. All of them. Slippery little buggers are making us look bad and I promised to have them all here within the hour."

Harry rubbed at his head his lips pouting his indignation, "Hey man I can't watch these guys and the others out there at the same time."

"So what you doing standing here arguing the odds with me blockhead? Get out there and find them. Find them all."

"But what about these two Jerry?"

O'Brien smirked, "Don't you worry about them Harry. I've got it all under control."

Harry nodded his eyes drifting over to John clearly with mistrust but a forceful shove from the deputy propelled him back to the stairs. "Okay Jerry don't get your panties in a bunch. If that preacher guy is still in town I'll find him and I'll get Betty to check on the sheriff."

"Tell Betty to play it cool till I get back to the jail. No good tipping McCall's hand till we're ready to haul him an his motley inmates in for their punishment."

John snorted out his disgust as the big guy left and the deputy turned his attention back to him. "Not so tough now are we big guy? Trussed up like a good little piggy readying for the barbecue."

Abiding his chance John kept his silence waiting for his opportunity to take out the brainwashed deputy. Aubrey Leeson proved to be his opening as the young hunter started to stir, groaning loudly as consciousness returned and with it the pain of blunt force trauma to his head.

O'Brien turned to the sounds of the man rousing and sauntered over to once more gloat over another captured hunter. "Well looky here, you've finally decided to join the party. Another hour and you would have missed all the fun."

The moment the deputy turned his back on him John seized the opportunity to sit up swiftly and cut deftly through the rope binding his ankles. He was on his feet and the deputy was laid out cold in a matter of seconds. The sting of his split knuckles felt more than a tad satisfying as the deputy lay at his feet.

John grunted out his approval at the turnaround from captive to captor and stripped O'Brien of his weapons, putting his gun in the back of his waistband and pepper spray in his top pocket, before using the deputy's own handcuffs to keep him secure.

Aubrey had heard the brief scuffle and then felt his bonds being cut and a reassuring hand pulled him back onto his feet. The world wavered for a second but John's firm hand stopped him from falling. "Thanks John," he muttered under his breath as he rubbed his sore head. "Just what the hell happened?"

"We got suckered punched Aubrey. The demon knows our plans and was sending out his little congregation to round us all up it seems."

The younger hunter shook his head in disbelief as he looked at the deputy on the floor, "But O'Brien? I would never have guessed. Only yesterday he did a shift with me at the jail. Played poker and fleeced me dry."

John shrugged, "Somehow the demon influences those around him to do his bidding. Must be how he was able to cause so much havoc in such a little time in Cedar Creek."

"So all my hard work in the jail was for nothing," huffed out the younger hunter clearly unhappy at how things were playing out.

Smiling darkly John shook his head, "Maybe not. O'Brien had no clue of what you were up to right? If Mr Bad wants us that badly that's the place he will have to come to get us. The jail is a good enough place to make our stand."

Aubrey stood independently as the headache receded and slowly he took onboard the mess they now found themselves in. "What about Jim? Did they get him too?"

John shook his head on recalling O'Brien's telling words and reached for his pocket for his phone then cursed out loud, "Damn it I lost my cell when they took me. You still got yours?"

Aubrey patted himself down and smile of relief broke his face as he pulled out his phone from his jean pocket and handed it over to John.

John quickly dialled Jim's number. When he got his voicemail he spat out, "Listen Jim, I think you already know that everything has gone pear-shaped here. Deputy O'Brien has thrown in his lot with the demon but we've taken him out of the equation. We're going to try head back to the jail so meet up with us there if you can."

There was a long pause and he finally added, "Listen if things really do go badly make sure that Joshua gets Sammy out of Baudette. Tell him to get my boy back to his brother by any means necessary."

Aubrey took a step backwards trying not to appear that he was eaves dropping as John made his request. His dark eyes darted around his dank surroundings and when he was handed back his phone he asked, "So where exactly are we?"

"Good question. I think we're under the church. Maybe a cellar of some sorts." answered John who walked over to the altar his face wrinkling in disgust on seeing the dark magic artefacts laid out.

With a broad hand he swept them angrily to the floor and looked over to the unconscious deputy. "We need to get his sorry ass out of here. You up to carry him out and back to the jail because I want to finish things here once and for all? A good old fashioned burning to smoke out the bastard seems in order."

Aubrey may have been smaller by a good half foot than John but he was of a stockier build. He hauled the unconscious deputy over his shoulder in a fireman's carry with ease and headed for the stairs. John went ahead of him to make sure that their exit was clear. Pausing on reaching the final step he pressed his ear to the wooden door and was met with silence.

"Looks like O'Brien spoke the truth, we really do have an hour's grace here."

"Yeah," grunted Aubrey as he adjusted the heavy weight on his shoulder, "Maybe they were hoping on catching us all before they did anything else. All their eggs in one basket ya think?"

John nodded with a happy smirk on his face, "Yeah he sent rent-a-muscles with no brains after Jim. And the sheriff is still sound. I think we're finally catching a break here."

Pushing the cellar doors open, John cocked his gun in anticipation of further unfriendlies but the entry way was clear. Poking his head out he caught sight of the church directly to the left of him a picturesque looking wooden structure. The lights were on inside and the havoc demon was in there no doubt preaching to his little gaggle of converts.

It worked well for him as it helped keep the demon distracted long enough for them to sneak out under his nose, "Okay - seems clear."

Their escape was made even easier when he spied the deputy's squad car parked up not ten yards ahead. John pulled the keys from O'Brien's belt and opened the truck his facing lighting up on seeing the shotgun and spare ammunition and more importantly the plastic container of liquid fuel.

Helping Aubrey put the still unconscious deputy into the trunk he whispered, "Lets see what mischief we can make for that black hearted devil."

Aubrey saw him shake the container the volatile liquid sloshing inside and he blanched slightly, "You crazy? Some of those people inside the church are innocent. You burn down the place and they'll all go up to."

John shook his head, "No. I'll set it to start at the back of the church then raise the alarm. It should give them time to get out."

He paused when he saw the fear still in Aubrey's eyes. "Look man so far that thing inside has manipulated everything and everybody around him. We're alive through sheer dumb luck and the fact that Deputy O'Brien was just a tad too cocky. We're not going to be so lucky next time. Believe me. Besides I have got my boy to think about here. I'm not gonna spend another night worrying about him. We end it here tonight."

"Yeah I know, but John setting fire too a church. Bit sacrilegious don't ya think?"

John snorted his contempt, "You've been around James too long. This demon has bound himself to the church remember and this is the only way I can think of getting him out fast."

Aubrey nodded his understanding, "You think that if you get him mad enough he'll come straight at us?"

"Yeah, pride is something you can use against most demon's, and believe me burning down his nice safe bolt hole is going seriously piss him off. I hope."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

"Hey Josh. How things going?" asked Caleb softly not wanting his phone call overhead by Dean who was sleeping soundly after his latest pain meds kicked in.

"Good. You? Dean?" came back the deep boom of Joshua's voice down the line.

"Well let's just say Dean isn't going to be doing the fandango anytime soon but he's going to be okay. But that's not why I'm calling. Just wanted to check base with you about Sam. The kid sounded upset last night."

"Upset? What about?" drawled back the big man, ignoring the ticklish whispers at his ear as Linda tried to distract him from the call and he batted her playfully away, "Not now Linda honey."

There was a long pause before Caleb asked, "Just where the hell are you? Please tell me you're in Baudette…"

"Well, no not now. I'm half a day away," he has answered truthfully his stomach suddenly in knots. The kid had said he didn't need him babysitting him and he had taken him at his word.

"But you have been right? Sam hasn't been on his own all week?" Caleb could feel his own panic growing especially after not being able to reach either John or Pastor Jim.

Joshua sucked in a breath, "John said he be gone for a few days max and Sam told me not to bother coming. I said it was fine and I hooked with an old friend for a while instead. Jesus if I thought he'd be on his own for a whole week I would have hot footed it over to him."

Caleb snapped out harshly, "Just do it now. Either John or Jim have gone to ground or something has gone wrong on their hunt. Sam shouldn't be out there on his own with a demon on the loose."

Linda found herself been dumped unceremoniously back on the bed as Joshua reached hastily for his pants and shirt.

Pouting as she watched her lover get dressed she tried to make him stay, "Baby I thought you were cool until Sunday. You know my old man won't be back until Monday."

Joshua was dressed in a matter of seconds, his feet in his unlaced boots as he headed for the door before he paused and threw her a small shrug of an apology, "Sorry honey, I really gotta go. It was a blast. Just give me a call next time your free and I'll swing back if I can."

He felt her shoe fly past his head and winced at the profanities that went with it before he dash back to his car his mind and heart now firmly elsewhere.

Caleb's call had rattled him more than he cared to admit. The feeling of guilt at leaving Sam alone all week in the belief that his dad would be back in a day or two made his speed just a little bit dangerous as he tore away from the city and the distraction of Linda's ample charms. What should have taken him a good five hours was whittled down to three before he found his way down the back roads of Baudette.

It was dark by the time he found himself driving up and down a length of road trying to find an invisible turning into John's latest place he dared to call home for him and his boys.

Joshua had been forced to drop his speed to a painfully slow crawl till on his fifth attempt he could see through the tops of some bushes what looked like the light from a window coming from a small wooden house.

The place was well hidden, a plus point that John would have liked and maybe that's why he thought it safe to leave his boy home alone. As his car drew up to the house he swore out his instant dislike. He was expecting something just a little bit more salubrious than the barely standing wooden structure before him and echoing Sam's initial thoughts on viewing the property growled out, "Jesus–H-Christ what a shit-hole."

Turning off the engine he stepped out of warmth of the car and felt the chill of evening air hit hard. Hastily he pulled his jacket from the back seat and shrugged it on, "Freaking Wisconsin weather, its enough to freeze the balls of a brass monkey."

Rapping on the door he wasn't expecting the door to suddenly fly open and for him to come face to face with the barrel of a sawn off shotgun aimed squarely at his head.

Despite his throat feeling incredibly dry at the sight he managed to drawl out, "Well isn't that grand. I drive all the way over here and you want to blow my head of Sammy boy!"

"Joshua?" Sam's surprise at seeing the big guy at the door was clearly written on his young face.

Joshua wondered what had the boy rattled enough to answer the door with a loaded gun but managed to offer up a bright smile, "The one and only. Now do you think you can point that gun elsewhere. Preferably anywhere but at me."

Sam's cheeks coloured and he hastily dropped the gun to his side, stepping to one side to let the big man inside and he muttered weakly a return, "I just wasn't expecting company is all."

"Well at least you're daddy would be proud of you being prepared and all…" Joshua went to clamp a hand on his back in greeting but Sam took a step away from him.

Knowing how moody teenagers could be and their need for personal space Joshua instead shoved his hand in his pocket and eyed up the shabby décor. "Bit of a dump Sam even by your dad's poor standards. Looks more like boot camp rather than home sweet home."

"Trying to toughen me up," snorted back Sam, before tellingly adding, "Thinks I'm too soft."

Joshua snorted back his disbelief but held his tongue on noting how the boy was checking the salt line by the door to make sure it was still intact before his eyes darted around all possible entry points to make sure that they too hadn't been breached.

Studying his closed expression he was enough of hunter to know the boy was frightened of something no matter how much he tried to disguise it with that patented Winchester game face. "You have a spot of trouble while your dad's been away? I told you to call me if you needed me Sam."

Sam shook his head too quick in denial and Joshua took off his jacket and frowned. The room felt almost as cold as the air outside. "You sure. Seems mighty cold in here. Not some pesky spirit trying to liven things up by trying to turn this place into a freaking igloo?"

There was a brief flash of dimples and a shake of a head and Joshua felt a little bit more reassured. If the kid could smile a denial then things may be alright. "Okay, but why is it a goddam freaking icebox in here."

Sam shrugged having gotten used to the conditions, "The heating isn't working. The boilers working I think as we've got hot water but some of the pipes must be blocked or something as the radiators won't come on."

"And your dad didn't have time to fix them?" growled out Joshua already rolling up his sleeves to sort out the problem.

"He's been busy," muttered Sam automatically in defence. "Look come into the kitchen its warmer there. I'll make you a coffee."

"No thanks kid, I've had you try to poison me before. Just point me at the coffee and I'll brew my own."

Sam chuckled at the memory, "Dude I was eight at the time. How was I supposed to know that Dean was yanking my chain when he told me that you liked yours extra special."

"Special wasn't the half of it. Just how much mustard powder did your big brother tell you to put in it?"

Sheepishly looking up at him through his bangs Sam blushed at the memory, "Not much, half a cup a think. Dean told me you needed warming up. It was really snowing outside. Remember?"

Rubbing his flat stomach Joshua sniffed at the admission. "Yeah I remember. I thought my throat was on fire and my stomach was going to explode. Not going to be a day I'll forget in a hurry."

Joshua wanted to rag on Sam a little longer but caught the clouded look back on his face and how nervously his eyes danced around the edges of the room, checking the windows and doors yet again for any weakness.

Then he noticed for the first time just how pale he looked. For a boy fresh from California it didn't look natural

As if aware of his scrutiny Sam put down the shotgun by the foot of the sofa and his head dipped down allowing his too long bangs to cover his eyes. As he headed back to the kitchen he called out softly, "I'll put the kettle on and you can brew your own poison."

Joshua followed after him. It had been over a year since he seen the kid last and he had shot up a good few inches in that time. It left him almost as tall as Dean he guessed, but his frame was yet to bulk out and fill his clothes the way his brother's did.

Watching how slowly he filled the kettle and put it on the stove he frowned again. Something just wasn't right here. The kid was a jittery as hell and if he didn't know better was hiding a whole world of pain from him. Still he knew better to push a Winchester. In time he'd draw it out of the kid. He always did.

He headed over the fridge and pulled it open and grunted at seeing it almost empty. His stomach growled in disappointment. He hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. "Hey Sam what's the deal here man? There's jack shit to eat and damn it boy I need milk in my coffee."

Sam looked at him blankly then he remembered the bag of groceries he had left with his backpack by the front door the night before. It was cold enough by the door for it to act like a natural fridge he hoped and the groceries would still be usable, "No I've got milk and stuff, just forgot to put it in the fridge."

Joshua watched him leave hurriedly only to return with a brown grocery bag. Snatching it out of his hand he pulled open the bag his eyes lighting up on the loaf of bread, and pulling out after it some milk and the eggs. At least he wasn't going to have to starve tonight.

As his rummaged through the bag he ignored the packets of soup reaching for something far more interesting. His broad face split into a wide grin of approval as pulled out the packet of Twinkie bars out and waved them under Sam's nose. "I see you've still got that sweet tooth of yours Sammy boy."

Sam's took a step back and all the blood drained from his face. The memory of Burnett's vodka breath on his face and his hand clenching tight on his thigh as he admitted the reason for his 'special treats' became frighteningly real again. _"Candy for such a sweet young boy like you just seemed fitting."_

"God no," stammered out Sam before it all became to much to deal with and he fled the room. By the time he made it to the bathroom his stomach gave up the battle and he lost what little contents were left, mainly watery bile but it still hurt like a bitch to expel.

Joshua chased after him wondering what was wrong only to see Sam wiping the spittle from his chin before he flushed the toilet. He wouldn't match his stare and he was forced to ask, "Sam dude, what's wrong. You sick or something?"

Sam shook his head in denial but Joshua could feel real heat pulsing off him now. Putting out a reassuring hand of comfort on the boy's shoulder he didn't expect the violent reaction it elicited.

"Get your fucking hands off me," cried out Sam in alarm resisting the touch letting a fist fly out blindly to hit squarely with the older man's jaw. His scabs on his healing knuckles split open but he didn't feel the pain. All he wanted was for the man to back off. Give him enough air to breathe again.

Joshua fell back a step back with the punch and fingered his jaw, eyes wide in surprise. "What the hell Sammy. You hit me!"

The surprise mutated into clear concern when he saw Sam shivering before him and he tried to reach out for the boy again.

Sam sidled away from him, putting out a warning hand as he stumbled back to the doorway, "Don't you touch me. You hear me? Don't ever touch me again."

Joshua blanched at the vehemence behind his words and his hands fell limply to his side not wanting to cause him more distress, "God Sam, I promise, I won't touch you. Please your just tell me what's going on here."

Sam confusedly looked up at the older man and saw his pain reflected back in his eyes and he confessed, "I screwed up Joshua. Always I screw up."

"What's happened Sam? How can I help you here?" Joshua wanted to grab at the boy and hold him tight wanting to pull the hurt out of him and make whatever was damaging the boy disappear. Despite his desire to hold the boy to him he willed himself to remain where he stood, not wanting to spook him even further and he asked desperately, "You want me to call your dad?"

Sam laughed openly at the suggestion before his eyes grew dark with unshed tears, "No… don't you see he'll be so mad at me again. He thinks me the worst idiot of a son ever. Now he'll hate me for true."

Joshua was at a loss at how to approach the clearly upset teenager but he honestly thought that the boy was way off base when it came to his questioning father's love for him, "No way Sam. Your daddy could never hate you. He loves you kiddo."

"Once maybe, but now. He's gonna hate me….he told me not to slack off. I should have seen it coming. I should have been more like Dean and then none of it would have happened."

Joshua leant in his voice desperate with worry now, "What happened Sam. What?"

Realising he had been on the verge of confessing all Sam sucked back a breath of surprise at how easily the man was tearing down his defences.. Joshua shouldn't be told, as he would then tell dad, and then dad will tell Dean and then everyone else would hate him too.

"Just go back to your girlfriend. I don't need you, I told you not to come remember?" His voice sounded shrill to his own ear and all the emotions of the last twenty-four hours threatened to spill out. Refusing to let any tears fall he spun around, blocking Joshua stunned face from his vision and darted back to the to the sanctuary of the sofa, ignoring the scream of the boiling kettle in the kitchen. It was just another sound of many to try and block out.

He hauled the blanket up over his head and pressed his face to his knees hoping for Joshua to just up and disappear.

The sound of the kettle whistling stopped and his throat tightened when the sofa sunk besides him at Joshua's heavier frame. He trembled at his proximity and was thankful when he didn't try to touch him.

Joshua looked at the huddled figure and picked up his cell suddenly certain that whatever the boy was going through he needed his dad back, as he had no clue at all on how to reach the boy right now. The only one the boy needed right now was his dad.

Sam's head darted up at the sound of him dialling, the hood of the blanket fell back and he looked achingly over at Joshua before asking in a tight whisper, "Please don't call him. Please."

"He's your dad Sam, and if you won't let me help you I have to call him."

"Please. Don't."

Joshua unable to resist the pleading quality of his gaze nodded slowly as he slipped the phone back into his pocket, "You have to tell me what's going on here son or I will have to ring him. You understand me?"

Sam dropped his head and mutely nodded.

It took until the shortest hour before midnight for the story to unravel and by then Joshua was crying softly by his side, wanting so desperately to hug him to him but by the way the boy continued to keep himself stiffly upright he knew that was not an option right now. Instead he admitted with sorrow making his voice throaty, "I'm sorry kiddo. This was all my fault. I should have been here for you like your dad asked."

Startled Sam looked over at him for the first time since he had started to tell his story and saw the tears falling down the burly hunters face and he felt guilty all over again, "No Josh. It was my stupid mistake. I told you not to come. I'm the one who should have guessed what Burnett was up to. "

Joshua wiped hurriedly at his face and shook his head forcibly to get his point across, "Don't you ever say that again Sam. That evil bastard is the one at fault. You survived Sam, you did it all on your own. You got away from the sick pervert and not many boys by the sound of if would have."

Sam nodded, a small smile lifting his face daring to feel a measure of good about himself again, "I did, didn't I? And now the bastard won't ever hurt anyone else again."

Joshua knocked his shoulder gently against Sam and nodded. "Now all I have to do is go salt and fucking burn that miserable sonofabitch's bones and then it will well and truly be over with."

Sam chewed his bottom limp before glancing over at his friend. "Not till morning right?"

Joshua nodded. He knew the boy didn't want to be left alone with the potential threat of Burnett's vengeful spirit out there. "Nope Sam. I'll get it all sorted out in the morning. Sneak into the morgue, grab the bastards body and send his soul well and truly down to hell."

"Thanks," whispered back Sam. He yawned and stretched his stiff body stifling back a hiss of pain. "Gonna take a leak."

Joshua wanted to ask him more questions, to find out exactly how far the bastard had got to hurting the boy but could clearly see thsy Sam was dead on his feet. "Okay dude but then it's off to get some shuteye. We can finish this up in the morning."

Sam paused his voice thin with fear again, "You won't tell him, will you? You promised."

Joshua nodded, left floundering at trying to understand just how had things gotten to be so bad between John and his youngest. The boy clearly was petrified of his dad finding out, when the fact was that the first person he should have been feel able to turn to was the one he was scared of the most,

The boy could have been raped or worse and Sam felt it was all because somehow he had failed his dad in someway, when in truth it was John who had failed him. Just how on earth had that fucking pervert slipped under the great John Winchester's radar in the first place?

He rubbed a tired hand over his face then stilled when he realised Sam hadn't moved, waiting for more than just a nod of his head, "Come on Sam. Get to bed, get some shuteye and by the time you wake up tomorrow all of this will have been sorted. That much I can promise you."

The flash of deep thankful dimples came his way before and Josh swallowed back his own feelings. The boy's trusting nature seemed back in full force again and he bitterly wondered just how John had felt it at all acceptable to leave the boy alone for even one day with so much evil out there, human or demon kind, so willing to hurt him.

Sam took him at his word and had crawled into his bed fully expecting for the usual restless slumber but the security of having Josh in the house helped him fall into an instant much needed sleep, that not an even a nightmare could touch.

Later that night Joshua dared to creep into his room with the blanket from the sofa hooked over one arm. The house was too bloody cold, he reminded himself, and Sam needed to stay warm.

Carefully he tucked it around him, noting how the boy seemed even younger in sleep and his blood boiled at the thought of some pervert trying to harm him in anyway.

Tomorrow he'd try and get the kid checked out. If not by him maybe by a medic he knew a few towns over. It was the least he could do after failing him so badly. Linda and all her wiles now just seemed so cheap and rotten when he thought of the boy having gone through such a dark experience all on his own.

He wanted to bend down and stroke the crown of his hair but resisted. The boy still didn't want to be touched that much he was certain off. Instead he leant in close and whispered, "Stay safe kiddo."

For a large man his footfall at times was almost silent and he started to creep out of Sam's room for that much needed cup of coffee when a soft voice called out after him, "Thanks Joshua. Thanks for coming."

**TBC**

_Next update, John returns home and the fireworks explode in spectacular Winchester fashion. _


	7. Chapter 7

_Usual disclaimers apply as does all those pesky mistakes I keep on making. Truly I have been so nauseating busy this week that all my thanks have gone unsaid. Still I have to say every single review has been an inspiration. Thanks again. Rozzy_.

**Growing Pains**

**Chapter 7: Demons, holy water and coffee**

The orange glow was at odds with the dark of night as the fire took hold at the back of the church. The smell of wood burning, of paint blistering, tainted the rain soaked air. Opening the doors to the main hall John growled out a verbal warning, 'Fire, everyone out. Now."

Using Aubrey's phone John called in the alarm then took a step back into the shadows of the trees bordering the church and waited. It was only a matter of seconds before people started to pour out of the church, a small collection of town folk of all ages with panic clear on their faces. Flinching at the sight of a young woman cradling a baby to her body John tried to quell the disquiet inside of him. The fire had to be set or the demon would never be flushed out.

Leaning in he could make out their panicked voices calling for each other as small groups formed, the relief of finding themselves safe shining clear on their faces and he could breathe a little easier.

Now the only one yet to appear was the one person he needed to see the most. A small cry of his name went up amongst the gathered people and the dark clad figure of the Minister appeared in the doorway as the roof of the church caught light and he stepped out into the world once more as all the binds that kept him protected within the walls of the church literally went up in flames.

The Minister's face may have remained impassive as those about him openly wept as their house of worship was eaten up by hungry flames but John caught the dark roll of black in his eyes appear for a brief second and could guess at the anger he harboured inside of the vessel he was using.

Stepping out from the cover of the trees he cocked a nod at the demon and saw a snarl lift his lips before he turned away as the fire engines screamed their approach.

On his return to the jail John was met by the sour face of Sheriff McCall, "You know when Leeson said you were gonna burn down the church I thought he had to be joking. People could have been killed Winchester. You crazy or what?"

John stopped wiping the rainwater off his face and gave him a look of disbelief, "I was thinking that sometimes you have to have the balls do what is necessary to get things done. You want rid of this goddam demon or not? Or you gonna cosy up to it just like your deputy did when he comes calling for you next?"

Leeson who had been standing behind the sheriff saw the man's shoulders stiffen and stepped in between the two abrasive personalities. "John's right. O'Brien was fine last night and that demon got to him and turned him so fast it's scary. He has to be taken out of the game before he gets even more powerful."

McCall threw up his hands in defeat and groused under his breath, "My grandfather helped build that church fifty years ago is all and Winchester here has managed to burn it to the ground in minutes."

Before John could answer there was a sharp rap on the door and all three men tuned at the noise. Leeson looked out of the window and exhaled his relief. "Its Jim."

John yanked the door open and Jim with Bobby Singer in tow stepped hurriedly in looking decidedly wet and cold. Brushing his wet hair behind his ears Jim offered up his greeting his anger making his voice sound harsh, "What the hell were you thinking John? Burning down a church of all things."

"I've already had this little chat with McCall," snarled back John as he looked past the Pastor and threw a disdainful look over at Singer. "I see you getting your nose stuck in again in business that doesn't involve you."

Bobby scowled and dropped the large sack in his hand onto the ground by his feet. "You best watch your mouth Winchester I ain't about to forget how last we parted."

John went to answer Singer's warning statement but Jim stood quickly between the two men, "Enough. I asked Bobby here because he has the solution to finish this job once and for all."

John bristled at the suggestion, "Yeah right, you forgetting that the damn fool almost got me sliced into little pieces last time out of the gate."

Bobby snarled back, "If I remember correctly it was me that got your sorry ass to the hospital after you chose to ignore my advice. You went into a haunting near enough blind and almost got you and your oldest boy killed because of it."

Jim put out warning hands to both men as they dipped into his personal space in their anger, "Hells bells grow a brain-cell why don't you both? This is not the time and place to air your dirty linen. The beast out there will exploit anything, anyone's weakness you hear me? You two fighting like a couple of hormonal teenagers is something It will hone in on straight away and exploit."

Both Bobby and John went to open their mouths in protest but Jim puffed out his chest and pushed both intransigent men away adding in a final warning, "We work together as a team or you two best walk away from this now. I'll finish this up by myself if I have to."

A low deep chuckle escaped from John as he absorbed Jim's words and all animosity faded away as he took on the worry in eyes, "Okay Jimmy, I can be a team player when needed. Main priority is stopping this demon right?"

Jim heard Bobby huff out his disbelief at John's words and threw him a warning look, "Bobby be nice and show the boys what you brought along for them to play with."

McCall and Aubrey shot a look at each other having wisely taken a back seat as the three hunters smoothed over their differences. Bobby picked up his sack and hefted it on to the Sheriff's desk and zipped it open. He took out some cans of paint and his moustache twitched as he heard John grunt out his surprise behind him but he held his tongue.

Aubrey threw Jim a querying look before voicing his concern, "I thought you said the wards and the trap were okay that I did here. That once inside it the demon wouldn't be able to get out"

All five pairs of eyes looked up to the ceiling to see the delicate artwork over their heads.

"The thing is smart and very powerful Aubrey my boy. I think it will be expecting us to do something like this," answered Jim truthfully, "We need to catch it out by lulling it into a false sense of security. There can be more than one trap laid if you get my drift and Bobby god bless him has come up with his own unique twist for us to work with here."

John looked over Bobby's shoulder and his smile widened, "I always said you were a crafty little bugger."

"Why thank you muchly," sniggered back Bobby as he pulled out the paint brushes for them to get to work with. "Now I think its time we rolled up our sleeves and did a spot of redecorating before Mr D turns up to wreck the party."

Jim took the Sheriff to one side. "Look about the Murdochs, they need to be taken somewhere else. Somewhere secure till this is all over with. They'll both end up dead fast when the demon shows up as he really has no value for them now. Especially if Jeb's big mouth runs away with him as usual. "

"No problem," agreed McCall. "We can sneak them out the back. I have a storm cellar at my place they can get all nice and cosy in."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Dean winced as cold fingers started to inspect the series of healing wounds on his back and he growled out bitterly, "At least warm them up before you get any lower doc."

Doctor Franks chuckled softly as he rubbed his hands together before inspecting the rest of the wound, "Sorry son. Have to say they look good with no sign of infection. You're a fast healer young man, at this rate we'll be kicking you out of bed in a few days."

"What about today?" asked Dean quickly seizing the chance of an early release. "My cousin will do all the driving and I can just sit there, doing nothing but looking at the scenery."

The doctor shook his head, "Really not an option just yet. If you want my needlework to hold up you have to give it another two days or you really will risk the chance of the wounds reopening and infection becoming a real danger. Then you'll be back to square one again, lying on your back waiting for the wounds to heal up before I can go back in and stitch them again."

Dean scowled at his words not liking them one little bit. "Its my ass, I think I can manage sitting just fine."

Caleb stepped into the conversation and drawled out a warning, "Don't think I'm driving you all the way back to Wisconsin with a smelly pus filled butt stinking out the car."

"I think I'm really starting to hate you," warned Dean as he glowered up at his friend. He fisted the pillow and snarled out his disgust at realising that escape was not happening today.

The doctor smiled knowingly at Caleb before leaving the room. Dean still glared at him and spat out, "Traitor. You really know how to stab a man in the back."

Caleb just shrugged, "Think its more your behind. Don't suppose you want this then seeing that I'm such an Benedict Arnold." Slowly he pulled out from behind his back a grease stained paper bag and watched Dean's face light up.

"Dude all can be forgiven with time," laughed back Dean pointing to the bedside table for him to leave his meal "Tell me you got pickles too.."

"Pickles. Yeah." Caleb dropped the bag by Dean and watched eager hands tear into it. As he watched the food being wolfed down he shook his head, "Chew boy, chew."

"Mmmn, best goddam burger ever," muttered Dean in between bites. A dollop of ketchup smeared his chin as he next stuffed a handful of fries into his mouth.

Caleb leant in and offered him up a paper napkin and muttered, "Jesus it's like watching a pig at a trough."

Dean threw him an open smile of half chewed food and Caleb groaned. "Gross man. Just totally gross."

Dean nodded totally unabashed at the criticism before taking a long slurp from his shake. "I can die happy now."

Caleb merely nodded chewing on his bottom lip in thought. Dean slowly pulled the straw from his mouth studying him carefully, "Something up?"

"Not really. I was just a bit uneasy about your brother being on his own but seeing that Joshua's with him I feel a little easier."

Putting down the shake Dean frowned his thoughts mulling over quickly Caleb's rather ambiguous confession and rerun his words through his head before pointedly asking, "So tell me when _exactly_ did Man Mountain get to my brother?"

Realising that he couldn't keep the truth from him Caleb slumped into the seat by his bed and confessed, "Last night after I called him. Sam told him not to bother coming when you dad left on Monday and Josh honestly thought he'd be on his own a day or two max."

Dean's green eyes darkened taking on board this news, "You mean the kid's been on his own all week? The freaky little brat hid that well from me each time I called him. Bet its been party time at Casa Winchester this week while the grown ups have been out of town."

Snorting loudly Caleb voiced his disbelief, "Sammy? In the middle of the backwaters of Wisconsin. I don't think so somehow."

"You don't know the kid. When Sam puts his mind to something he can be the most stubborn little shit ever. Hell by now he might even have another chick to cuddle up with. He better be using protection, that's all I'm gonna say."

Caleb blushed at the suggestion, still in denial that the baby of the Winchester family could be shaping up to be as lecherous as his big brother and he found himself blurting out, "Lord no! Still you might want to call him to find out exactly what he's been up."

"Yeah well if you hadn't sided with Dr Frankenstein about the state of my ass then maybe I'd be on my way out of this joint and I could call him."

"Listen man he's gonna find out about your little hospital visit sooner rather than later why not just get it over with. Sam still needs his brother no matter how adult either one of you thinks he is."

Slowly Dean picked up his milkshake again with a guarded expression before adding, "Like you said Josh is with him now. He'd call if anything was wrong and will slap Sam back into shape if he has been up to anything hinky." He paused not really wanting to know but still found himself asking, "My dad know any of this, of Sammy boy playing Home Alone?"

"Sheesh, no I don't think so. Remember he's been calling you for feedback on the boy."

"Well let's just hope that Sam's learnt to be Teflon coated when the old man does find out."

Caleb frowned and asked, "You really think your dad is going to go ballistic at him? I thought his whole reasoning for taking Sam up to Wisconsin was to toughen him up a bit. Seems to me that's what your brother is doing. Right?"

Putting down his shake again Dean shook his head, "As I see it dad expected Sam to follow orders here and not cancel the babysitter if you get my drift. The sooner I get my ass back on the road to Wisconsin the better, before they end up tearing each other apart or worse."

Thinking hard Caleb nodded, "Tomorrow then. We'll get on the road then."

He got up and Dean shot him a querying look, "Where you shooting off to now? Getting more food, right? Or some of those top shelves magazines that you keep constantly forgetting to bring along?"

Shaking his head at both suggestions Caleb threw him a dark grin, "Just have to do a spot of shopping. Your pink little tush is going to need some protection if you're going to sit pretty as I drive you back to Wisconsin. The Impala's seats aren't exactly extra padded are they?"

"Dude what the hell are you up to?"demanded back Dean not liking the glint in his friend's eyes.

"Just got to get you something so your checkerboard ass can sit comfy. I little re-jig of furnishing seems in order."

Dean twisted in his bed ignoring the pull on his stitches as he tracked his friend leaving his room. Hollering loudly after him he screamed out a warning, "Don't you dare do any reupholstering to my car you bitch. You hear me? Leave my baby alone."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Joshua poked his head around the door and his eyes rested on the curled up form on the bed. The blanket was still tucked around the boy and the older man blew out a sigh of relief that Sam seemed to have had a peaceful nights sleep.

Quietly he clicked the door shut mindful that he had work to do and the sooner he got it over and done with the better. Finding the local mortuary and getting rid of the bastard that had tried to hurt the youngest Winchester was now his main priority. That and making sure that Sam remained protected till his dad came home.

After Sam's distressing insistence last night that he not call his dad he had kept his promise but he knew it was only a matter of time before John returned to his youngest and the truth came out. He could take the expected tongue-lashing from John on his return as long as the boy had his dad to fall back on again to feel safe.

Draining the last of the coffee Joshua took a long grim look around him. The place in the morning light was even more a shit hole than he had given it credit for last night.

The wooden floors creaked dangerously in spots, the windows were rotten and the pervading smell of mildew tainted the air. This had to be one of the most godawful places he had ever seen John dare call home and he was left wondering just where the man's head had been at to leave his son alone in such a dump.

Bending down to feed some more wood into the only source of heat in the small cabin he wanted Sam to have at least have some warmth when he woke up. Later when he got back he sort out the boiler and made sure that the radiators worked.

He scowled as he straightened up, "You should have sorted this out Johnny before you dashed off and left the kid alone. Your boys should come first. You got things wrong here. Fucked up wrong."

Shrugging on his jacket he left the cabin and the air outside was so cold it escaped in white puffs every time he breathed out and he cussed out bitterly, "I hate the freaking Wisconsin weather."

As he drove away he prayed that he could get Burnett's body sorted out and get back to the cabin before Sam woke up. He might even have time to snag his medic buddy from County General to get him to come back and look at the kid. Either way the boy needed the once over and judging from his reactions last night he wasn't the one to do that. The boy was too spooked to have him touch him for any reason right now.

As he drove away Joshua mentally started to steel him stomach for the morning to come as salting and burning a fresh corpse was never a pleasant experience. He was so preoccupied that he almost missed the vehicle parked up at the back of the store as he passed the crossroads at the bottom of the hill.

It was only the sunlight reflecting of highly polished metal in his rear mirror that caught his attention and revealed the most unexpected of sights; a hearse. Braking hard he swung the car around in a tight u-turn and headed back to the gas station hardly daring to believe his luck.

A wide grin of was on his craggy face as he stilled the engine by the gas pumps hardly believing his luck. He got out and sauntered casually to the back of the building and realised this really was a gift from the gods themselves. Inside the polished frame of the hearse was a simple plywood coffin with a few cheap wreaths to mark the body of the man inside passing. Not much to mark the passing of a so-called pillar of society he mused silently to himself.

Determined to make sure it was Burnett inside the box he pumped a few gallons of gas into his almost full tank and went inside the store to pay, readying to wheedle out of the old man at the counter the information he needed. "Surprised your open. Looks like you have a funeral to go to."

The old man nodded his agreement, "Your lucky mister I was just about to lock up and turn the gas pumps off. Eddie Burnett is being cremated today."

"Cremated, huh!" Joshua tried to still the smirk that threatened to break across his face at the news. "You know I heard there was a hit and run a few nights back."

"Yep." The old man leant in and whispered, "Eddie was so drunk that that when the coroner checked his blood it was near one hundred percent proof. Don't think the cops are even going to bother looking for the other driver if you get my drift…"

"Bit of a drinker then?"

"Yeah the fool liked the hard stuff alright. Just like his old man did before his liver gave up the ghost."

Joshua frowned adding, "I'm surprised they've released the body for burial so quickly. Especially considering how he died."

Rolling his eyes slightly at the question the old man snorted softly, "This is a small town Mister. No great mystery here. The man got drunk, smashed up his van and then got broad swiped by another as he made his way back home. Why hang around waiting for him to bloat out even more?"

Joshua threw him a hard look surprised at the vehemence behind his words, "Take it he wasn't your favourite person then."

"Mister I don't mean to speak ill of the dead but I'm glad for Celia that he's not around to make her life a misery anymore." Pausing the cashier cautiously looked around to make sure that no one could over hear them, "The demon booze was never her friend if you get my drift."

"He was a nasty drunk then?"

"Hell yes, and his poor wife was on the receiving end of his fists too many times that I care to count. People tried you know to get her to leave, even the local Minister's wife, but she was just too plumb scared. No one messed with a man like Burnett if you get my drift."

Joshua swallowed hard wondering again just what injuries the man might have inflicted on Sam, "So the man was a bully easy with his fists. Sounds like his wife has had a lucky break here."

The old man cackled exposing a mouth bereft of most its teeth, "Yep, maybe Celia's luck is on the up what with the life insurance she'll be getting along with this store. May even think of courting her myself seeing how dang rich she's gonna be in a few weeks time.""

"Best of luck with that one," responded Joshua, giving the temporary storekeeper a small smirk. Having noted where all the surveillance cameras where and the antiquated alarm system Joshua left the shop with a soft smile on lips.

Hauling what was need from the trunk of his car he slipped deftly back to the hearse to deal with Burnett's remains.

Unscrewing the lid with his penknife he knew that his luck was getting even better because no way in hell was this going to an open casket at the service. Burnett's crushed skull clearly showed the impact damage caused by a half a tonne of steel and no effort had been made to disguise what was left of his mangled features.

It was not a pretty sight even for a hardened hunter like himself but Joshua felt no pity for the man, only a growing sense of rage as he sprinkled the corpse in a deep layer of salt before giving it a liberal dousing of lighter fluid.

Satisfied that the body would go up in a fiery rush he screwed the lid back on the coffin before he stood back and cursed under his breath, "You ugly fat bastard needed a slower death. Personally I would have broken every bone in your body, working from your toes upwards before skinning you alive."

Getting back in his car Joshua drove away only to pull up a few yards down the road and waited. He still had easy eye contact with the shop and the hearse and after a few minutes the store door opened and out walked a small thin woman and a plump teenage girl. Dressed in black the widow looked pale but the young girl beside her positively glowed as she stood behind her. No grieving going on there, thought Joshua with a small smile of appreciation.

A short portly little man in funeral black and glasses as thick as coke bottles stepped out after them and spoke briefly with the widow offering up conciliatory words before heading for the hearse.

The old man in the store followed next and Joshua watched the store being locked up in haste before the small party of three headed towards an old Ford pickup truck parked at the front of the store.

As the hearse slowly went by him Joshua had to suck back the giggles as the small man he had instantly nickname 'Magoo' peered over the dashboard as he tried to view the road ahead.

The old Ford stayed behind the weaving hearse and Joshua pulled off the shoulder and followed at a distance till they finally came to the crematorium on the other side of Baudette.

There were a few other mourners waiting at the entrance of a small chapel who greeted the widow and her niece with mock grief before a large woman bustled them all inside.

Joshua slipped into a back pew to make sure that the bastard really did go up with a bang. The service was thankfully brief and the coffin disappeared behind dusky pink velour curtains to the sounds of piped music as the mourners traipsed out, all very much dry eyed.

Staying behind as the apparatus whirred in the background Joshua heard the coffin being lowered into the ovens and then heard them fire up. Casting an eye at his watch he started to count back from sixty. A happy smile broke across his face as a sudden roar met his ears on hitting forty-nine and the rumble in the ovens vibrated under foot. "There you go you fucking bastard. Done and toasted and sent to hell."

When he snuck outside luck for the third time that morning made itself known as the large woman steered Celia away, and he purposely eaves dropped in on the conversation, "Now Celia dear I hope you don't mind, despite the short notice I prepared the church hall for a small wake. It will give you a proper chance to say your goodbyes."

Celia shook her head, but the firm hand on her forearm didn't relinquish its grip and she was too broken in spirit to break free. "I just wanted a quiet sending off, but if you think it appropriate Lavina I'll do what you think best."

"I do Celia." The large woman bent down her round face showing her emotions, "Despite the conciliatory words my husband just spoke I know what that evil bastard put you through and I aim to make this the best party you've ever been to old girl. You'll share a glass of two with me in wishing his sorry hide finds itself sent down to hell won't you."

Celia's eyes watered as she nodded her head at the Minister's wife and gripped her hand desperately in support, "I think I can do that Lavina dear, I really do think I can do that."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

The beast had made himself know just after two a.m, when the town had quietened down after the fire and the majority of the population now slept.

It was ready to end this rather tiring game of cat and mouse and stood on the threshold of the Sheriff's office and stretched out a lazy hand. The heavy door flew open torn off shattered hinges to clatter loud as it fell on the ground. With eyes a sickeningly demon black the Minister smiled as Aubrey threw out a warning spray of holy water missing him by inches before an invisible power wrenched him off his feet and he went head first into the ceiling with sickening crunch before being dropped boneless to the floor.

McCall tried to call out a warning as he stretched over his desk to grab up his rifle but was met with the same treatment as Leeson, being lifted out of his seat to fly across the room to hit the metal filing cabinets with a loud crunch and all conscious thought left him.

Fredericks looked down on the two fallen men and his top lip lifted in a sneer of disdain, "Pathetic, truly pathetic. You little sacks of meat trying to play it up with the big boys. Just who do you think you are?"

He halted by the doorway and looked up and dark smile lifted his features. "So damn predictable." The ceiling cracked under his command, raining chunks of plaster down on the two unconscious men.

Knowing that these were not the hunters he was after he fingered the crucifix around his neck and he called out softly in a dark taunt, "Come out, come out where you are my little piggies. Its time for a little hunting time of my own."

His feet crunched over the broken plaster and he stood by the entrance to the jail cells. Sniffing the air he paused and he snarled his disgust at noting the ward of protection etched on the door handle.

Infuriated he stood back and the metal handle started to glow as the ward was erased away. He called out again. "You know burning down a church was more than just a tad naughty Winchester. On some level that's gotta be a big no-no to the man upstairs and is just another tick against your soul before you get sent down to hell don't ya think?"

Jim on hearing the muffled diatribe threw a warning look to John who lounged against the bars of the open cell recently occupied by Jeb Murdoch. His face was unreadable and if the demon's words had hit their mark he wasn't letting on.

The voice continued as the partition between them glowed, "Only a matter of time now before I come a-knocking John. I'm just dying to have a little one-to-one with you. Maybe even point out in my own unique way that its not nice to play with fire."

John's flashed a look over at Jim and shrugged, dimples flashing apologetically as he remarked, "I think I really pissed him off big time."

Bobby grunted his agreement down the other end of the corridor, "Something you have a real talent for. Just keep him occupied long enough and we'll do the rest."

All conversation ended as the metal door to the cellblock bulged and the tearing of brackets screeched loud as the door came off its hinge and clanked against the metal bars of a cell.

"Oh my lord," muttered Jim in alarm shrinking back into the recess trying to remain hidden. That was one impressive display of power he had just witnessed and he found himself offering up a small prayer that Bobby's plan would work in such tight quarters.

Fredericks slowly stepped into the room, dark eyes scanning the room for further wards of protection or traps. Noting the devils trap above John's head he clucked his disapproval and as before the ceiling cracked and chunks of plaster came crashing down.

John grunted out in pain as chunks of plaster peppered him, leaving him with a large gash on his cheek that bled freely. Pulling out this gun from the back of his waistband he stood up tall again and aimed the weapon at the approaching demon.

Fredericks paused and laughed softly, "What your gonna do JW, shoot and kill the man inside?"

"If I have to," smiled back John taking a careful step away, eyes glinting hard in determination."

A look of surprise lifted the Minister's feature, "You know I think you would."

The demon waved his hand and the gun was wrenched from John's firm grip and sailed over to his open palm.

With another wave of his hand John hit the metal bars and all the air escaped his lungs as his ribs protested the impact. Standing on shaky feet John took a step backwards as the demon approached gun now firmly pointed at him. "Now my boy let me explain to you why it's not nice to piss off a hardworking demon like myself."

The gun fired and John staggered back as his hand clutched at the torn furrow in his forearm. "Goddam sonofabitch," he growled out as pain flared under his grip and blood seeped through his fingers.

"Aw sticks and stones Dimples." Noting how the man flinched at the affectionate term the Demon added slowly, "Anyone ever tell you just how cute you look when you're all fired up and all. If you like we can party a bit before I kill you and head out off town. I hear Baudette still has a church that's not a smouldering ruin that I can call home again."

John felt a flurry of panic inside him at the Demon's words and all he could think of was his youngest and he hastily spat out, "Go to hell you bastard."

The demon laughed as he slowly approached John, "Now would I be touching a nerve here Dimples. You have family stashed away in Baudette maybe? Some pretty little dear ones I can go snack on later. The younger ones are always so sweet and juicy."

Hissing away the pain in his arm John shook his head in denial, "This is your last port of call you dumb jackass. Your just too stupid to realise that you're already on a one-way ticket back to hell."

Fredericks paused and shook his head, "Truly pathetic with a capital P. You have nothing Johnny. Nothing. I had thought you'd be just a little bit more exceptional considering the reputation that goes with your name, but your just a stupid little mortal after all."

"If you say so," grinned back John.

The demon paused in his approach, wondering if he had missed anything worthy of his attention as the man still remained far too confident for his liking. Sniffing the air again a feral smile crept across his face and he pointed the gun at John again, "Come on out Pastor before I ventilate your friend some more."

Jim grim face stepped out of the shadows playing out his role as intended, "Let Fredericks go, leave his body now before I cast you out myself."

The demon chuckled at the sincerity emanating from the man, "You know for a man of the cloth you're pretty feisty aren't you? One of god's little warriors no doubt."

"I do his will as you are soon to find out."

Fredericks snorted out his disgust, and Jim felt himself being lifted off his feet to be flung into the cell to barrel heavily into John.

As both men slowly picked themselves up the demon walked into the centre of the cell and pinned them against the wall. "Well _my _will is what matters the most now you mealy mouthed sacks of nothing. You best start praying that I get bored playing with your innards sooner rather than later. Start praying big time for an early release Pastor Jim."

Jim managed to twist his head to snatch a look at John and saw the knowing smile in return. John turned his face to the demon and a large smile split his features as he spat out, "Gotcha."

It was the cue Bobby had been waiting for and lights went out. In the darkness the wall, and floor glowed luminous green. The force that only moments ago threatened to crush the life out of John and Jim dissipated as Fredericks eyes darted around in panic before resting on the luminous markings around his feet, "No fucking way…"

John walked around the circle with a knowing smirk with Jim close on his heels. Bobby came out of the darkness and wagged a finger at the demon. "Now you little prick, now the fun time really begins."

The demon inside Fredericks howled in outrage as the bucket of holy water hit him before his head snapped around in fear as he heard the deep timbres of the Pastor's voice recite perfect Latin as the exorcism began in earnest.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Jim hated it when John Winchester insisted on his big macho act of pretending that a bullet wound didn't hurt like crazy or that the pounding rest of his body had taken was something minor. He had his own bruises of his own as a reminder just how powerful that demon had been. Being tossed around like a bag of flower just hadn't been any fun at all.

As he applied a fresh dressing to the he wound he huffed out, "You really planning to drive back to Burdette now, in this condition? It will do you or your boy no good if you drive off the road and get yourself killed."

"Look Jim stop fretting it's just a flesh wound. Doesn't even need stitches."

"That's because you're too stubborn to let me put them in. Hard to believe that you're scared of few stitches, big bad demon hunter that you are."

John shrugged on his shirt and snapped back, "I've been on the receiving end of your handiwork before, remember? If needs be I'll get San do the dirty when I get back to Baudette. Gonna be a whole lot neater and sure as hell less painful."

Jim clicked shut the medicine kit and pursed his lips in annoyance. "One little stitch gone wrong done in haste on the field of battle and the man holds a freaking grudge for life."

Bobby who had been listening in on conversation jumped off the table and patted Jim on the back. "Come on Jim think we need to buy the Sheriff and Leeson here a coffee or two and work out how we are gonna get those dumbass Murdochs out of town before they find out what's been going and the shit really does hit the fan."

The Sheriff winced gingerly as he dared to laugh and Aubrey followed suit, both surprising at just only bit bruised and battered after their encounter with a souped up Fredericks. Coffee sounded just about nigh perfect as the sun stole upwards in the sky.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

It was just after ten when John pulled up outside the cabin. The grey skies that had plagued him all week were gone to be replaced by bright sunshine, although the chill in the air bore testament to the change in seasons with enough bite to make him shiver as he got out.

Hauling his duffle bag out after him he winced as the wound pulled in his arm but shrugged it off. All he needed was a strong cup of a coffee and some painkillers and he could be pretend that the exorcism of Minister Fredericks had been relatively simple.

As he entered the cabin he automatically cast a sharp eye around the entrance way to see the salt lines thick and even. He smiled his satisfaction as he checked the windows and headed for the kitchen to see all the wards of protection in place as he had left them. 'Looks like the boy has been finally been paying some attention."

Dropping his holdall onto the kitchen table he looked out of the window to see the pile of wood still the same as he had left it then recalled that the banisters on the veranda hadn't been touched either. Holding in check his disappointment that not all his orders had been followed he reasoned he'd talk with the boy later and find out exactly what the hell he had been up to.

He switched the kettle on and reached across for the coffee jar only to find it empty. His once upbeat mood darkened immeasurably at the sight. If there was one rule in his house it was that there should be coffee when he got back from a hunt. The few coffee grinds at the bottom of jar wouldn't fill a thimble never mind sake his need for its rich bitter taste.

"Damn it to hell," spat out John testily as fresh pain from his arm started to throb anew and he growled out loud his son's name, "Sam?"

He called again and heard the thud of footsteps and waited for his son to appear. Hair askew and still half asleep Sam appeared awoken from a deep sleep that just infuriated his dad even more, "You know what time it is? Half the morning is gone and you're still catching your beauty sleep. From what I was see you should have been up with the dawn to do some of those chores I left your sorry ass to do."

Sam blinked owlishly at him and in his confusion side stepped his dad's rants, "Dad? Your back."

"And look what I've come back to. The place is still a mess and by the looks of things you've been slacking off big time. Been running rings around Joshua as usual?"

When Sam just looked at him blank faced his anger bubbled even more inside, "Goddam selfish as always I see."

"Dad I'm sorry," mustered back Sam in apology before his eyes went wide on noting the deep slash on his father's face and bruised jaw and he took a tentative step forwards to see the damage little more clearer, "Oh my god you're hurt."

John huffed back his indifference to the worried tone in his son's voice instead dismissing him, "Just get your stupid ass dressed and head down to store. I'm giving you twenty minutes to get back here before I ground your selfish backside for life."

Struggling to batten down his emotions Sam shook his head, "Dad, I didn't know. About the coffee that is."

"Twenty minutes. Not a second more," hissed back John not willing to listen to any excuses.

Sam nodded his understanding trying to keep the trembles in his limbs becoming too pronounced. He had witnessed his dad like this a few times in the past few years to know that he was too angry to reason with right now. His best defence was just to get some coffee by any means necessary and pray that after a cup full or two he would mellow out to leave some of his anger behind.

Finding his sneakers by the front door he stifled a groan on realising that he hadn't put them by the stove to dry out after his encounter with Burnett and they felt spongy and icy cold as he shoved his feet into them. 'Suck it up', he whispered to himself as his feet rebelled.

Pulling on his jacket Sam stalled on realising that he had no money to buy the coffee with and walking back into the kitchen he sheepishly asked, "I need some cash sir."

It was the last straw for John who turned angrily on his son, "Jesus what the hell have you been up to? I left you enough money to feed a fucking army for a month nether mind one boy for a week."

"I got receipts for everything," stuttered back Sam in his own defence, "They're on the counter."

Stripping a ten dollar note from his wallet he chucked it at Sam, "You and I are going to have serious words when you get back., You hear me boy, serious words." Purposely he snatched up the receipts to study them fully readying to quiz his son with them on his return.

Nodding his understanding Sam gingerly bent down to pick up the cash and bit down a hiss of pain as his back protested. "I'm sorry," he dared to voice again as he headed for the front door.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

It took him almost an hour to find a store open and he knew as he walked the short walk down the wooded lane back to the cabin that with his dad would now be so pissed at him he'd be lucky to be let out on leash for the next year or two.

Joshua's car was parked up next to his dad's truck on his return and his stomach clenched in fear wondering just what he had told his dad. He winced when he opened the door and the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. The once thought of peace offering to his dad in his hand was now totally redundant. Frigging great.

Voices from the kitchen abruptly stopped as the door slammed behind him and with his heart yammering loudly he tentatively walked into the kitchen and slowly put the bag of coffee down on the table along with a receipt and change.

Daring to look up through his bangs he saw Joshua throw him an apologetic look and his hopes bottomed up as he dared to ask unable to mask his utter desperation, "You told him?"

Joshua darted a look at John before coming back to Sam, "I'm sorry kiddo. Your dad needed to know."

Sam shook his head in denial as his world collapsed even further, "No. You promised. You promised."

A firm hand grabbed at his shoulder and Sam was spun around to meet his father's displeased countenance and he blinked back a cry of pain. John pointed a finger accusingly at him, "A man is dead for Christ sake and you wanted Joshua to lie for you to me? Just what the hell were you thinking?"

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

**TBC**

_I know, I know folks - John really needs to think before he speaks at times. Pity is in the next chapter he hasn't quite yet learnt that skill and without Dean around Sam feels the brunt of his harsh words. Next chapter will be totally Sammy centric as the nuclear meltdown in the House of Winchester continues. _


	8. Chapter 8

_Usual disclaimers apply. Mistakes aplenty are bound to pepper this chapter so apologies in advance! Hope you enjoy it besides all that, and again my thanks to one and all for such positive feedback that this story has been receiving. Rozzy_

**Growing Pains - Chapter 8: Selective hearing**

It was close to midday by the time Joshua returned to the cabin and his jaw clenched shut on seeing John's truck parked up. He sucked in a long breath realising that he had well and truly run out of time.

On the drive back he had hoped for another chance to talk with Sam and get a better picture of what had actually happened two nights back. The boy had been vague in places, hinted at things, but never fully confessed to anything other than he had managed to beat off a two hundred pound psycho and get back home. It left him more than a little uneasy, especially after having seen Burnett's body and realising just what a big man he had been. It was hard to believe that Sam no matter how well trained would have been able to fend him off.

It took him a full five minutes to work up the courage to get out of the car, hauling with him the heavy bags of groceries he had snagged from the Burnett's store an hour before.

With the family away it had been the perfect opportunity to tidy up any loose ends. He had wiped the surveillance tapes for the last few weeks and then did a thorough search of the property. What he had found hidden under the floorboards in a cluttered office space had turned his stomach. There were boxes of photos and diaries cataloguing a history of violence and he was faced with the unpalatable truth that the man had been a serial abuser.

The guilt sat heavy on his shoulders knowing that the bastard had been just waiting for his chance with Sam. The creep hadn't failed to notice when John left town or the fact that his supposed 'Uncle Joshua' never materialised. As the week went on he had just bided his time till he made his move. The diary entries made it quite clear what he planned to do, naming Sam his intended 'Friday night special'.

It wasn't going to be easy to face John and tell him any of this. He had expected him to be there for his son, to protect him from all sorts of dangers including the human kind and he had failed them both.

As he entered the cabin the silence was stifling and he stilled his need to turn tail and head back to the mind-numbing charms of Linda and pretend that the last two days had never happened. Steeling his nerves he found the courage to keep on walking and on entering the kitchen drew to an abrupt halt. John was slumped in a chair by the stove apparently fast asleep. Not wanting to startle him awake he tried to put down the heavy bags of groceries as quietly as he could on the table but it was still enough to snap back John to full alert.

Snapping upright John took in the sight of his old friend and threw him a lopsided grin of welcome, "Hey Josh was wondering where you were at."

Josh couldn't hide the wince of sympathy on seeing the long gash and bruises on John's face, "Have to say you look like crap man."

"Demon, me bait. Not a good mix it seems," smirked back John before fingering the cut on his cheek as the skin pulled.

Joshua shrugged off his jacket, "You're too old to be pulling this crap. What was wrong in letting the young bloods play the punch bag this time out?"

John threw him a watery smile and on noticing the bags on the table dared to ask, "Please tell me that you have some coffee?"

"Yeah sure, I'll make us up a pot," offered up Joshua hastily at his friend's apparent desperation. He pulled out a packet and John beamed happily at the sight, his eyes half closed as he rested his battered and tired body

As he sorted out a fresh brew Josh let the silence that had settled between them continue all the time trying to find the courage to tell him what had happened. Finally finding his voice again Josh turned back to John and asked, "You still like yours totally naked?"

"What other way is there?" snorted back John as he eagerly took the offered mug.

Josh didn't even blink at the jibe as he poured milk into his own mug before heaping in three sugars. Too each his own was his motto.

"Ya know there is one rule in this house that is sacrosanct," drawled out John as he cradled his mug struggling to keep his eyes open.

Cocking a knowing look at Joshua asked, "Yeah, what's that? Something really profound I bet like make sure the salt lines stay dry?"

John gave a short laugh, "That too, but more importantly that there should always be coffee for the returning heroes after a successful hunt. I yelled up a storm when I saw the jar empty earlier."

Joshua shrugged an apology, "Sorry about that, I used the last of it up this morning. Just surprised that Sam has managed to sleep on with a crotchety old bear like you back in full vocal force."

John's eyes narrowed and he threw his friend a dark look of reprimand, "Sam is running an errand of mercy right now for this crotchety old man thanks to you."

Smacking his head with an open palm Joshua couldn't hold back his groan of disbelief, "Oh man, let me guess, you growled and barked and sent him packing in a minute flat? No 'Hi son how's your week been?' I bet."

John rolled his eyes at the display, "The boy was still in bed gone past ten in the morning. Seems to be that the kid has been slacking off all week long, and has done a big fat zero of nothing under your care."

Joshua sucked in a breath and finally admitted, "You're gonna want to kill me for saying this but I only got here last night."

John's mouth fell open at the news before he found his voice, "Damn it man you said you were coming, it was the only reason I left my boy alone for so long."

"I know I fucked up," admitted Joshua feeling his heart thump in his chest as the emotions of guilt and betrayal run through him.

"You should have rang me, let me know so I could have sorted out something else." accused John.

"I just didn't think. Sam let me off the hook by saying that I didn't really need to come. Frankly it gave me an easy way out as my pants were going in the opposite direction if you get my drift."

John groaned and buried his head into his hands too bone weary to want to have this to deal with this revelation right now, "You idiot, the kid could always talk you into doing anything."

"I honestly thought you'd be gone a day or two max, that everything would be fine. When no one called so I was sure that I wasn't needed anymore."

John scowled back up at him and was forced to ask, eyes studying the bruise on his jaw with suspicion, "So what made you turn up last night? Your latest conquest's husband turn up or something?"

Joshua shook his head, and absently fingered the bruise that Sam had given him in his panic last night, "No it was Caleb. He rang and hit my guilt button, made me hot foot it across to check in on your boy as I should have been doing all week. Just sorry I didn't come sooner…"

John's eyes hardened, his gut clenching in sudden uneasiness, "Just what do you mean by that?" Dean hadn't even hinted at the fact that his youngest boy had been alone all week or of any trouble he might have gotten himself into. Words would have to be said to both his boys.

Joshua winced at his suddenly hard tone but he knew the man deserved to know the truth no matter how bad that painted him. Blowing out a long breath he finally asked, "You really haven't spoken with Sam then? He didn't tell you anything before you made him go out on a stupid coffee hunt?"

John hesitated a second before answering, "No, he barely said a word to me. Nothing unusual in that though."

Joshua stood up sharply as it felt more natural to be on his feet as he admitted to his friend what his mistake had almost cost his boy. Perhaps even to take the punch if it came from the soon to be angry father in front of him.

Carefully he put his mug in the sink and turned round to face John, "A creep called Burnett is what happened. Slime ball thought it some sort of game to sneak candy and stuff into the kid's grocery bag."

John brow creased in puzzlement, "The storekeeper down the road? Why the hell would he have anything to do with my boy?" Then on realising on where he sent his youngest he stood up abruptly himself, "I sent Sam down to the store."

Visibly blanching at the new information Joshua heart stilled for a second before he found his voice, "Well that's gonna be hard for the boy to do seeing the store is still locked up because of the funeral."

John swayed slightly at the news, confusion clear on his face as he eyed the groceries on the table with the name Burnett stencilled in red on each bag, "Funeral? What the hell has been going on here? Who died?"

Licking his dry lips Joshua came clean, "Burnett two nights back. The drunken bastard made the kid get in his van when he saw him walking home then crashed the damn thing when Sam wanted out."

John felt his stomach hollow itself out, "But Sam was okay, right?" He closed his eyes recalling his youngest earlier but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary with him and felt a little bit more reassured.

Joshua nodded but wasn't quite able to meet John's searing gaze, "I think so. He wouldn't let me get anywhere near him but he seems okay. From what I could gather the van went nose-to-nose with a tree and lost the battle. Afterwards Burnett ran off back down the road only to be rear-ended by a hit-and-run. Sweet justice if you ask me."

John shook his head in disbelief, "This happened two night ago you say and yet Sammy didn't think to call me? A man is dead for Christ sake and that raises up a whole world of other possibilities and repercussions."

"Yeah well about that I managed to salt Burnett's body and doused it with enough accelerant that at the crematorium he literally made the earth move when he went up with a bang."

John scrubbed a shaky hand over his face in disbelief, trying to digest the story as it unfolded, "Sam didn't say a word about it this morning."

Joshua paused wondering how on earth he was going to tell John the rest of what happened to his son before he confessed the simple truth, "I think he was more scared of you and how'd you react than of what Burnett did. I sort of promised him not tell you…it was the only way to calm him down last night."

John's molars ground together as he tried to keep his temper in check as he asked, "Let me get this straight, my boy told you to not come, then got into some drunk's van, knows that a man has been killed and then wanted you to lie to me? Seriously - I am a father made proud."

The sound of the front door slamming stalled Joshua's response and they both turned their heads in tandem too see Sam walk slowly into the kitchen before placing the coffee cautiously onto the table.

Joshua flinched when Sam looked up at him, his fragile mask of hope disintegrating as he asked desperately, "You told him?"

Feeling like he just punched the kid in the guts when he saw the fear in his eyes he darted a quick plea to John for understanding before answering Sam, "I'm sorry kiddo. Your dad needed to know."

Joshua sucked in a breath when he saw whatever faith the boy might have held for him vanish, and heard him gasp out, "No. You promised. You promised."

John on hearing his son's words spun him around with a firm grip and Joshua was left wishing he had kept this mouth shut as the man started to tear strips off his youngest boy.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Caleb looked too goddam smug for it to be a good thing surmised Dean as he was wheeled out of the hospital grounds. Sure he had made good his promise to get him released today but the guy had been up to something that he was being firmly tight lipped about. And that something he was pretty damn certain involved his beloved car.

As he drew nearer to the perfectly polished impala Dean threw his friend a threatening look but kept his silence.

Caleb held back a chuckle at seeing Dean's death glare directed his way, "So how's the butt holding up."

"Just fine," growled back Dean still on enough painkillers to feel numb his eyes locked on his car as Caleb drew to a stop by the back of the car and pulled the holdall off Dean's lap and tossed it into the trunk before pushing the wheelchair to the passenger door.

"Oh man this feels so wrong," muttered Dean at being sidelined to passenger status and then his eyes widened in disbelief as he pulled the door open. Something fluorescent and very pink rested in all its offensive glory on the seat.

"No freaking way," spat out Dean hotly as he eyed the child's blow up swimming aid. "I'm not parking my ass on that thing all the way back to Wisconsin."

Keeping his expression totally deadpan Caleb answered, "What's wrong with it. It's the perfect solution. It will keep you from tearing your stitches and will be a nice little air pocket of comfort."

"You little bastard. You think this is funny?" growled back Dean as he eyed the pink monstrosity.

His face schooled into neutral Caleb hid his amusement, "Oh come on, stop being such a baby and get in the car. People are starting to notice…."

A small group of nurses watching on as one of their more interesting patients departed their care smiled over at them throwing the odd wave of goodbye and words of encouragement.

"Screw you," snapped back Dean tossing the lurid cushion over his shoulders to the ground. He'd rather do the long journey back to Wisconsin in discomfort rather than sit his backside on the thing.

Caleb couldn't stifle a giggle as he picked up the pink ring and flashed it at the nurses who laughed in return. "Come on be reasonable here. Your delicate little butt needs some TLC here."

Stubbornly Dean started to drag himself onto the seat, ignoring the pull on his stitches and he huffed out bitterly, "Anyone ever tell you what a huge jerk you grew up to be?"

There was a loud pop as Caleb shoved the point of a key into the pink plastic ring and the air sizzled out. "Nope. Jerk doesn't quite equate to my 'Nigh Perfect Status' I've been endowed with I believe."

Dean threw him a vicious look, "Yeah well you are. One hundred percent a first class jerk."

Tossing the deflated ring onto the back seat Caleb laughed at his friend's continued pout and reached across to pull out a more conservative dark blue cushion, plusher in appearance and covered in soft velour, "You can stop the dramatics Little Miss Precious. Just lift you butt up and sit on this."

When Dean stubbornly shook his head Caleb leant in and whispered in a tight threat, "Listen, you either sit on this or I will wheel your backside back to that nice warm bed you've just left."

Looking very much like his baby brother did at times Dean rolled his eyes and muttered, "Add really downright mean to that growing list of faults you have. Bitch."

As Dean gingerly hoisted his backside off the seat Caleb slipped in the cushion and was rewarded with a soft sigh of appreciation and he tossed a look at his friend, "So you ready for our little road trip?"

Still pouting Dean didn't bother to respond and Caleb switched on the radio and when Dean went to protest at the soft jazz station he had tuned it into wagged a finger in warning at him, "Driver, me. Passenger, you."

"Oh shoot me dead now, this is going to be hell itself," moaned back Dean dreading the too long road trip to come.

Caleb grinned as the pulled out of the car lot, threw a wave goodbye at the nurses and headed for the nearest drive-thru. Food was what needed he had decided to lift his passenger out of his growing funk. "Them golden arches calling out to you yet?" he asked and Dean's face lit up despite himself.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Tucking his chin down to his chest Sam tried to breathe through his growing panic as his father gripped his shoulder good and hard, "Dad…I."

He couldn't speak any further, his mouth suddenly too dry as the long walk to find a store open and then the walk back had left him with few reserves left. Daring a glance over to the sink he wished desperately for a glass of water to give him back the ability to speak and a chance to explain himself away.

Joshua disquiet grew at hearing John's harsh tone with the boy and he wondered if the man had taken in any thing he had said just seconds earlier. Stepping forwards he tried to intervene, "John, for pity sake give the boy a chance to tell you what happened."

Letting go of Sam with a small shove he snarled back at his friend, "Oh I know what happened my son defied me once again. I gave him explicit instructions and he went against them. Look at how well that turned out. Jesus H Christ a man's dead because of it."

Joshua rose to his full height sizzling with indignation, "Don't you dare lay that blame on Sam. It's one hundred percent my fault this all happened. And as for Burnett you should be thankful that the fucking bastard's dead."

Sourly John threw his son a sideways glance, "Yeah well now we'll have the goddam police sniffing around and all because he was dumb enough to get in a van with some drunkard. It defies all reason."

Feeling more than a little naked under his dad's scrutiny Sam's sense of guilt was being amplified and all he wanted to do was crawl away into any dark corner and sleep away this nightmare.

Not to be intimidated Joshua stood his ground in defence of the boy, "I'm telling you John go easy, you don't know the whole story yet."

Sam took a step back as the two older men jockeyed for control but it was only his dad's voice he could find any purchase to focus on.

"It sounds to me that I'm damn lucky to have heard anything at all. My son was willing to have you lie to my face, save his stupid ass for an easy way out."

"Oh come on John it wasn't like that. The kid was gullible, that's his only mistake. You really just don't understand what it was like for Sam."

"And what part should I try to understand here? He got into some drunk's van and it ended up with a man dead."

Trying desperately not to breakdown and show any more weakness to his dad Sam ignored how his whole body felt ready to collapse and he managed he stammer out a confession, "I didn't know he'd been drinking. When he pulled up, I didn't know."

John stilled at hearing his son's voice and took in a steadying breath and took a long hard look at his son before he turned back to Joshua his face unreadable, "I need to speak with my son alone. Best you wait outside."

Joshua threw a look at Sam but the boy refused to acknowledge him, his hurt too deep at what he deemed a betrayal. Snatching up his jacket he bent down to whisper in Sam's ear, "I'm sorry but I had to say something, you shouldn't have to deal with this on your own kiddo. He's your dad after all…"

Sam shook his head and took a step away from him biting back a response, that the man may be his dad but that didn't mean a damn thing when it came to forgiving him for his screw ups. It wasn't the John Winchester way of doing things.

Listening for the front door to close as Joshua stepped outside John turned back to his son, his voice level and frighteningly cold, "You ever planning on telling me the truth or were you just going to spin out a whole world of lies for me to swallow?"

Sam shot his dad a look and admitted, "I, no…. I tried to ring you. That night, I tried and you didn't pick up."

John without his cell phone to check the validity of his words shook his head, still desperately trying to understand why his son had been prepared to lie to him, "I'm trying to understand why you thought not telling me the truth an option. Hell I'm struggling just to get my head round the fact that you got in the man's van in the first place."

Pausing Sam tried to focus his thoughts and all he could remember was the cold unrelenting rain and he shrugged softly before admitting, "It was raining."

John's face fell open in disbelief, "Raining? You couldn't suck up a small walk home because it was bloody raining? I expected to hear that he twisted your arm and forced you in to his van. Not that you hopped in willingly."

Biting his bottom lip Sam shook his head in denial. "I said no but he kept on at me. I thought he'd cause a scene and half of Baudette would know about it. That he would know you weren't there. It seemed easier to just let him give me a ride home."

"Yeah and some ride that turned out to be," snorted back John in disgust. He shook his head struggling to keep his control. After all his years of training the boy it was hard to believe that he could have been so freaking naïve, and then at just how bloody devious he had been in trying to hide it from him.

His son's face was hidden from view by his too long bangs and John was left wondering just what was going on in his head right now as anyone could read his son through his eyes.

Running a shaking hand through his own grimy hair he sighed tiredly unable to mask his deep disappointment, "So instead of acting like a son of mine should behave you instead get Joshua to tidy up your mess and then expect him to lie to my face for you."

"Even if I told you what happened I knew you wouldn't understand," admitted Sam, willing for his voice not to sound so weak as he took a quick peak up at his dad. He wiped the cuff of his sleeve over his face, the sweat dappling his skin making him feel ever more uncomfortable. With his mouth still too dry he found it impossible to add anything more coherent.

"No you're right I don't understand," answered John truthfully, "I thought you were finally growing up. That you were stopping all your childish dramas but it seems I was wrong." Sourly he added, "Your brother would never have let me down like this. Never."

"I know," answered Sam honestly, eyes smarting at the sting of tears that threatened to fall. "Dean would have cottoned on to Burnett straight away. He would have sussed it out, the reason for the special treats and all."

John looked over at the Twinkie bar by the sink and frowned. Joshua had mentioned Burnett slipping candy into the bags but he had been too fired up to really take on board his meaning. As the penny dropped acid rose up his throat and he felt physically sick. "Jesus you mean he'd been giving you these to sweeten you up and you didn't think about what he might want in return."

Sam trembled and felt his skin burn under his dad's outrage, "I didn't know it was him, I thought it was Nancy. I didn't know it was him till he told me in the van."

John crushed the cake in his hand and threw it in the sink in disgust before focusing his attention back on his son, "So let me get this right you didn't sense anything wrong with the man, like the fact he was fucking drunk when you got into his van. That you didn't suss on to the fact he was some twisted pervert?"

"No Sir," mustered back Sam, wondering why his whole body kept on trembling or why his thoughts seem so befuddled. "He just seemed normal…"

John growled out his disbelief, "Its hard to believe you've been raised a Winchester. Don't tell me you are still so naïve not to know what the man was hinting at, what he thought he was buying?"

"Burnett's voice echoed in his head and Sam's face flushed again at the memory, _"__Candy for such a sweet young boy like you just seemed fitting."_

Sam blushed furiously and his voice rose an octave, anger starting to seep into the hollow space in his guts, "He didn't buy me off with some damn candy. You weren't there, didn't hear the things he kept on saying. You don't know how it played out."

"So you say, but I know the end result," spat back John equally as hotly. "That my son was foolish enough to walk willing into some perverts sick world and that he's just damn lucky that the creep was so drunk he crashed the van."

"As usual its so easy for you to departmentalise it all into nice neat little images of Stupid Sam screws up again isn't it?" Sam's spat out, anger rippling out of him in a rush of hot words. "You really want to know why I didn't want to tell you about Burnett, about what happened?"

John rocked back on his heals more than a little surprised at the fire in his son's voice before he responded "You going to try and feed me another version of events? I think I can see pretty clear just what went on."

"See - that's why. You have selective hearing when it comes to anything I say. Always picking on something that you can nail me to the wall with it," Sam drew himself up straight his voice bitter as he added, "I know that it wouldn't have made any difference if it told you what happened or if I told you that your useless weak-assed son stopped him. Stopped him before…."

His voice tailed off, the shame stilling his tongue at just hinting at what Burnett had wanted from him.

John felt the blood drain from his face and he staggered back to half sit on the edge of the table as his legs gave way as he did his assumptions that the man had been too drunk to do anything to his boy, "Before what Sam?"

He watched as his son pointedly looked away and he was forced again to ask, "Before what? What did he do? Tell me what exactly happened in that van."

Sam breath hitched in his chest as he blurted out in a hoarse whisper, "What do you think? You really want to hear that he thought me easy, that he offered me money to do stuff ?"

The silence remained thick between them before John found the strength to ask, the words sounding wrong to his own ears, "Did he…. did you let that bastard touch you?"

When his son flinched but didn't answer his control slipped through his fingers as his terror took over. In a second he was back on his feet shaking his son and shouting, "Oh god did you let that fucking pervert touch you?"

Sam felt his throat close up and all he could do was shake his head in denial.

John's felt sick to his stomach. A man had tried to molest his son. Worse though was the boy had tried to hide it from him and he found himself shaking him more forcibly, "You better answer me now. Tell me exactly what he did. No more lies."

The heat in the kitchen felt suddenly too intense for Sam and the sweat poured off him, whilst his head throbbed in tandem with the pain in his back. All he could understand was that his dad was so angry that he could feel his teeth clacking together with each shake.

Finally he managed to blurt out, "He didn't do get to do _that_. I stopped him. Don't you understand that I stopped him."

Joshua on hearing the raised voices had dashed back into the house to see Sam struggling to get out from his father's strong grip. In a mad dash he pulled John away, "What the hell? Let go of the him John before you hurt him."

John eyes went wide as the contact with his son was broken and he dragged in a much needed breath before throwing his friend a telling look, "You know what that bastard was going to do with Sam? All because of some fucking candy bars my boy was too stupid not to accept."

"You've got to calm down John. I told you hadn't all the facts," he threw a quick glance over at Sam and saw him standing there clearly trembling. Turning back to John he let go of him, "Please don't make things worse by going off the deep end here."

"Deep end? He's tried to hide this from me." His face soured even further at glancing over at his son, "It's hard to believe that he's a Winchester at times."

Sam may have been initially cowed by his dad's temper but his own was growing and the repeated innuendo at being a second rate Winchester stung too deep again to ignore. Lifting his head high he spat back sarcastically, "Yeah right dragging down the family name all for some freaking candy. Not worth bending over for a screw is it."

"Sam, please…" warned Joshua to the boy behind him as he saw John bristle at the rawness of his youngest words.

"Watch your mouth boy or you just planning to carry on digging an even bigger hole to bury your stupid ass in," spat back John standing up tall.

Sam blinked back his need for tears and threw a bitter look at his dad over Joshua's shoulder. "Stupid is right. Should have taken up the big guy's offer of a quick fifty bucks. Hell I bet if I hung around long enough he might have upped it to a hundred."

Joshua groaned at the boy's confession, "Oh my god Sam please don't …"

Unable to stop the tirade of words from spilling out Sam added, "Yeah you would have been real proud of me then, right _Sir_? I could have kept you in coffee for a year." He sucked in a tremulous breath before he managed to spit out even more hurt, "Or even better been worth more than a quarter my weight in salt for once."

Joshua saw his friend's eyes go dark at the taunt and didn't know what words to say to undo the damage, instead he kept himself firmly between the two warring Winchesters fearing that John might reach out and physically harm his son.

Instead John closed his eyes, body sagging as he turned away, gripping the edge of the sink to keep himself upright. Hoarsely barely more than a whisper he spat out, "Get out of my sight boy before I do something I'll regret."

There was a moment of silence and Joshua shot a look over his shoulder at Sam expecting some bitter come back. Instead the boy was close to tears as he whispered up at him, vindicating his earlier plea for silence, "I told you he would hate me."

Shaking his head in denial Joshua looked back to John eyes pleading for him to give the boy some support. He heard Sam turn on his heels and leave and was torn with his need to go after him but he had noticed something the boy hadn't, the growing crimson stain on John's forearm. A bleeding wound took precedent over hurt feelings he reasoned as he let Sam go and went over to where his friend stood hunched over the sink.

Putting a hand on his shoulder he felt him stiffen, "Come on John, sit down before you fall down."

He steered him back to the chair and John as he sat down glanced at his damp sleeve and vaguely commented, "Jim was right after all, gonna need a few stitches."

"Your medical kit in the bathroom?"

When John just mutely nodded he went off to retrieve it, pausing by Sam's bedroom door on his way back wondering how he was coping after his harsh exchange with his dad but didn't have the emotional courage to knock on the door and find out. Instead he returned to the kitchen thinking it best to patch up at least one wound he could fix today.

"Looks like a bullet wound. Didn't think Demons used them as part of their arsenal." he queried.

John shrugged, "Twenty first century demon. So how many stitches do you think its gonna need?"

"About five or six."

"Good," murmured John his mind clearly somewhere else.

"Less stitches than its gonna take to patch up the wounds you've just inflicted on your youngest I bet," murmured Joshua as he dropped the sodden bandage in the bin.

John scowled at this friend, "You heard what he just said to me. My dad would have skinned me alive if I ever dared talk to him like that."

"Yeah the kid's got balls that's for sure. It's made him strong enough to face down some drunken bastard itching to get his hand down his pants and then face off against an equally vicious tongued father. Most would have broken by now, double whammied like that in as many days, but not your kid."

"You don't understand what's going on here. If he lies to me about something like this what else will he lie about?"

As he threaded the needle Joshua shook his head, "Well that's not technically true is it, him lying to you. I scuppered whatever chance the kid had of telling you himself the moment I opened my big mouth."

John looked up at his friend his face ashen, not just from blood loss, his bitter exchange with his son had hurt more than any bullet wound, "You said he didn't want me to know. How was I supposed to deal with that?"

Joshua paused and wiped away a dribble of blood from the wound before putting in the next stitch, "Like a father perhaps instead some gnarled up grizzled hunter too judgemental to even listen to what your son was trying so desperately trying to make you hear in the end."

When John went to argue Josh cut him off, "Come on, you know Sam would have told you given half the chance, given the right circumstances. The kid can't lie to save his soul. He's an open book of honesty, so fucking bright it's blinding at times."

"So you're blaming everyone except my boy here?" John sucked back a curse as Joshua hooked the needle a little harder than necessary through his flesh and threw a look at his friend to see real anger simmering in his eyes, "I take it your pissed?"

"What makes you think that?" snorted back Joshua, "You suddenly Mr Perceptive because I must have missed that when you tore into your son without a thought to how traumatic an experience it must have been for him. Fuck your standard 'He's Winchester, suck it up' crap you feed down his throat, the boy found a monster all of his own stalking him this past week and dealt with it. On his own."

John sighed and admitted wearily, "I just saw red, him getting in that van was just crazy." He rubbed his eyes free of moisture as he added, "I just get so scared for him at times. How do I stop him from getting hurt? How do I keep him safe if when he is so bloody open, so trusting?"

Putting the last stitch into the wound Joshua snipped off the thread before putting a fresh dressing over the wound. "Seems to me that you did the same. You drove away assuming that Burnett was Mr Normal and that Sam was safe around him."

John stiffened and Joshua shut the medical kit with a loud click before heading for the fridge and pulled out a couple of beers. In truth he needed something to settle his nerves after witnessing the blow up between John and his son. He wasn't a man easily rattled but the Winchesters had a way of using words that bit down to the marrow.

Handing one over to John he sat down and offered up his final reveal, "Before my little shopping trip back at Burnett's place I found things that made my skin crawl. The man kept diaries and other stuff including photos and trophies he had taken of his past victims over the years."

John shook his head hardly believing his ears, "When did I forget that not all monsters are supernatural?"

Joshua paused and threw him a knowing look before continuing, "Burnett had been watching Sam from the moment you came into town."

"And I didn't see it, none of what was going on," John admitted before a shiver went down his spine as he took onboard Josh's words. "Oh god you said he took photos, some of Sam too?"

Sucking in a tired breath Josh nodded, "Yeah he had pictures of Sam. Innocent enough thankfully. Some of him waiting for the school bus, a few with you in the truck, others taken I guess from his van as he watched the cabin. He'd been after your boy from the get go. "

For a moment John just looked at his friend before he lurched to his feet and lost his first cup of coffee of the day and half a bottle of beer down the kitchen sink. The man had been outside this place looking in at his boy and he been not around to stop it.

Josh chewed on his lips as he watched his old friend slowly turn around the despair clear on his face. Putting his bottle back on the table he straightened up, "Look John if you don't mind I'm gonna go and check on Sammy. The kid has been to hell and back this week and he must be in a dark ugly place right now. The things you both said are going to leave a lasting mark."

John straightened up and shook his head eyes blurry with unshed tears that he wasn't afraid to show to his old friend, "No please don't. I should do that. Sam was right I didn't listen, just assumed and then… Well sometimes I forget what being his dad is all about."

A small smile of relief lifted Joshua's features as he watched John leave. Picking up his bottle of beer again he could feel his burden of guilt slowly being lifted as John went off to make it right with his son.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Jim had stayed around long enough to herd the Murdochs out of town on a false trail of another job, their time spent incarcerated explained away as the demon's work especially with a contrite Deputy O'Brien at the Sheriff's side to offer up an apology.

It had been a long week and he would be glad to get back to the comforts of his parish. When his cell vibrated in his pocket he was almost tempted to ignore it but his conscience won over and he answered. "Hey Joshua, you just caught me about to head home."

"Good," snapped out Josh in a rush, "Get over to Baudette as fast as you can. I need your help."

"John? That stubborn fool, I knew I shouldn't have let him drive off like that."

"No Jim, I sorted John out with a few stitches. It's Sam. I've been up and down half the roads of Burdette looking for him and it's getting late."

"Samuel? What's going on Joshua? I know things have been strained between him and his dad but I just hoped a week away from each other might have made them both see sense and things would settle down."

"No, I messed up big time and because of it Sam and John got into one hell of a fight and things were said. John told the kid to get out of his sight and Sam took him literally at his word."

"The Winchesters are going to be the death of me…" muttered Jim under his breath as headed back towards his car, his long stride eating up the yards in a hurry.

"Well John is going crazy. Please just head over here. I'll explain everything when you get here. Stuff has happened Jim, that I really can't speak about over the open airwaves."

"I understand. I'll be there as soon as I can. Where's John right now?"

"I told him to stay at the cabin in case the kid came back."

Jim nodded his silent thanks, "Good, him driving around like a madman would only add to our problems. I'll ring you when I get to Baudette. If you find Sam before then let me know."

"Will do old man."

Climbing into the driver's seat of his four by four Jim hastily turned on the engine. It would be twilight soon enough and the loss of daylight meant finding Sam would be even harder. The boy was a hunter's son after all. He could be on the road to anywhere if he put his mind to it.

TBC 

_So any takers for throwing squashed tomatoes and rotten fruit at John as I lead him up to the stocks? No really I do love John its that he is such a deeply flawed man, that when it comes to parenting he really does need Dean at his side to stop him from making so many mistakes with his youngest boy. Next chapter deals with Sam and his struggles with his own world of hurt, both physical and mental._


	9. Chapter 9

_Usual disclaimers apply, with my usual hands up in confession that there is bound to be a gaggle of stupid typo errors nestled in this chapter! Still beyond that let me just say my heartfelt thanks for all those simply inspiring reviews that have been chucked my way. Simply I am just amazed at just how generous you have been in helping me write this story. Rozzy._

**Growing Pains – Chapter 9: Big brothers**

The sun had leant a false warmth to the day that had instantly disappeared as soon as he entered the woodlands and Sam shivered despite the sweat that dappled his brow or made his shirt damp and cling to his body.

Feeling shockingly numb Sam had lurched away from the cabin and started along the path that ran between the cabin and the woods. He had walked it many times in search of firewood but this time there was no need to stop and he just carried on till he was walking fully under the canopies of tall broad trees.

'_Gullible'._ That's what Joshua had labelled him and the word had stung harsh with the truth of it.

Gullible because earlier when he had seen his father standing in the kitchen butterflies had danced in his tummy in his relief and for the longest moment he yearned just to lean into him and enjoy the umbrella of his protection. Just like he had trusted in him as a small child to make all his fears disappear with just a touch and for a small moment he had dared to believe that was possible again.

The child inside Sam still wanted to have him hold him tight so that he could admit just how damn scary it had been without him around.

The words of confession had swirled in his head but he never had a chance to speak even one of them as there had been no stupid coffee. And god knows rule number one made everything else a poor second, and he wasn't foolish enough to go argue its merits, especially when seeing his dad's bruised and cut face and an expression that told him that he was as grumpy as hell with it.

And there you had it because he knew the moment he stepped back into the cabin after his long trek to find a store open and the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air that he, Sam Winchester, was royally screwed.

Having spent fifteen years under John Winchester's roof he knew the drill to come, of having to stand to attention, listening ramrod stiff and nodding where expected and just absorb the vitriol.

And Sam knew deep down that he had tried, really struggled to do as expected, but his head had throbbed just as his body ached, before finally as his father ranted on at him something inside him just snapped.

Words that had felt impossible to say earlier rolled off his tongue frighteningly easy then. Used to block and deflect, wrap a bubble of protection around himself that his dad's sharp disapproval couldn't breach, but the end result was worse than he could have imagined

So now Sam could admit as he continued on walking away that he really hadn't been prepared for his dad's reaction, the way he had turned his back on him and whispered out a final command. _'__Get out of my sight__ boy before I do something I'll regret_'

Such an easily spoken command that had wounded deeper than any words he might have imagined to hear from his dad. It was a rejection, a dismissal and an honest pointer to how his father really saw him; as a disappointment that he just wanted rid. Just like Burnett had hinted at.

In his naivety Sam had always believed that his dad would always be there for him no matter what their differences might be. Now as he walked further away all he could see was that the once solid foundation of faith that had kept him arguing with Burnett two nights ago, that his dad would always be there for him, was crumbling away to nothing.

Stopping in mid-stride Sam drew to a sharp halt as his father's reaction beat down on him. Closing his eyes, trying to keep the weakness of tears at bay vicious words kept ricocheting in his head. It was too much and with a small stifled sob he fisted a hand in his hair, ignoring the pain it brought to the slowly drying scab in his scalp, desperate to still the voice that kept on screaming at him that he was, "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

So in the half-light of the woodland Sam walked away with a dead man's taunts ringing as truths in his ears and his dad's own words supporting them. And all he knew as he ducked below a low branch that this was preferable to staying and fighting a no-win battle, as his head hurt enough already without wanting to smack it up against the brick wall that made up his father anymore.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

The phone rang and John froze for a second before reaching across to answer daring to hope that either it was Jim or Joshua with news on his missing boy. "Hello?" he growled down the line.

His oldest son's voice came back in greeting. "Finally! What's with the great incommunicado act you've pulling since yesterday old man?"

Swallowing back his unease at hearing the concern in Dean's voice John managed to keep his own level, "Lost my cell…long story but all you need to know is that I got the job done. You finished up in Florida?"

"Yeah, though my pride took a bit of a beating," answered Dean with small grunt as he shifted on his cushion, feeling the twinges more now than he did earlier in the day as the pain meds wore off.

Caleb chuckled under his breath at his friend's determinedly vague confession but kept his tongue stilled. It wasn't his job to tell John what had happened to his son. That could come out over a few too many beers he guessed on some dark wintry evening in Wisconsin.

"So what did you bag in the end?" asked John carefully not wanting reveal to his oldest that the baby of the family was missing as they spoke. Whilst there was still daylight he could keep his panic under control and his fears away from his oldest child.

"I don't want to have to admit it but that geeky son of yours was right. A chupacabra of all things. Damn thing was ugly as hell and as bad tempered to match."

John responded with a low whistle of surprise before daring to ask, "But you and Caleb are okay? I take it you're driving back now?

"In a fashion. I'm gonna be a bit tender in places for awhile, so Caleb's been reduced to chauffeur duties," he paused throwing a disparaging look at his friend as he added, "Thought the idiot drives like a geriatric grandmother loaded up on crack."

Caleb rolled his eyes at hearing the comment which Dean pointedly ignored as he asked his dad, "So how's it being going with you and Sammy? Kill each other much yet?"

John tensed at his son's frank questioning and he admitted, "I think your brother is going to drive me clinically insane before he reaches sixteen." Pausing he scrubbed a tired hand over the stubble on his chin before confessing, "The boy has got a tongue as sharp as a knife and knows how to use it…"

"Silent treatment ended I take it, though if memory serves good I did warn that you'd need body armour if you went one-to-one with him," Dean paused and then with knowing quality to his voice asked "Still I take it this little set too was about that idiot Joshua's late attendance?"

Stilling the tremor he felt inside John managed to keep his voice level, "Yeah, that and other stuff."

There was a long pause down the line before Dean spoke up again, "Can't say that I didn't freak myself when Caleb told me the brat had been playing home alone all week long. He snuck that one under my nose way too easily."

Sighing his defeat John admitted, "Not your fault son. I should have checked in and not assumed things were going as planned."

Surprised at his dad's overtly composed response Dean didn't feel so benevolent, "Well it's pissed me off. Just put the runt on the line so that I can give him my own version of a verbal tongue lashing."

"No can do … your brother's not here at the moment," answered John warily not wanting to confess down the line what had really happened and cause even more upset.

Sagging in the chair, worry ate away in his belly. He had told Sam to get out of his sight and had literally been taken at his word. Now for all he knew his youngest could be on his way back to California or worse. The boy was that stubborn to just up and leave and not think of the worry it would cause.

Voicing his unhappiness Dean snapped back, "Well you tell him that I'm gonna knock his block off for this latest stunt."

"Things will have been worked out before you get back," John answered softly whilst praying fervently that indeed would be the truth.

Again there was a long silence as Dean took onboard the lack of parental anger he had been expecting from his father, "Everything really okay dad?"

"They will be. Things are still messed up with Sammy and I need to …" John couldn't finish, the words choking in his throat.

Dean had been witness to enough bust ups between his brother and his dad to know how draining they could be, "Let me guess when you got back words were said. You pushed and he shoved back before the kid verbally disembowelled you. You want me to ring back later and speak to Sam. Help him kick some of that anger to the kerb?"

Dragging in a calming breath John shook his head more than a little afraid of his oldest boy's astuteness when it came to his relationship with his brother, "No son, I have to sort this out with the boy. I've made a few mistakes, said some stuff that only I can take back and make right."

Dean more than a little stunned by his dad's admission dared to offer up, "You know Sammy doesn't mean half the stuff he says at times. It's just a defence mechanism. Doesn't mean he doesn't respect you or want to try his best dad."

Struggling to keep his feelings under control John went to end the call. "Yeah Dean I know. Look I'll ring you later when hopefully by then things will have sorted themselves out. Then you can also tell me exactly what the damage was to your 'wounded pride'. Can't be pretty if you've got Caleb driving the car."

Dean laughed softly fighting down his need to ask more questions. If his dad thought he could fix it with his brother then he would have just have to learn to take a back seat and let it play itself out, "Yeah okay. Gonna be a while getting back as like I said the dude drives like some old lady with cataracts."

"Oh dear me!" crowed back Caleb as the car dipped purposely into a pothole, flashing a knowing smirk at his mouthy passenger.

Dean cursed out loud as his dad hung up. "Bitch. You did that deliberately."

"Didn't quite see that huge enormous crater in the road being such a geriatric crack whore, whose freaking feeble and near blind," snapped back Caleb, before cranking up the music even louder still managing to hear Dean mutter under his breath something to make a nun faint.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

After ending his talk with Dean the inaction of just sitting and waiting proved too much and John had taken to searching the surrounding woodlands for any signs of his youngest boy. After yelling himself hoarse and walking the woods surrounding the boundaries of the cabin twice he was still empty handed and now it was official as the sun dipped behind the skyline – it was time to start panicking.

Ill equipped to search in the approaching dark he jogged back to the cabin his heart pounded in his chest as all his fears for his youngest were coming real. He had let him down already with that freak Burnett and now he had driven him out, alone in the approaching darkness.

"Sam," he called out as he entered the cabin, hoping beyond hope that his boy had found his way back home again, "Sammy?"

There was no response but John checked on his room anyway only to find it as empty as before. He sat despondently on the bed and looked around noticing for the first time just how Spartan in appearance it was. Only the unmade bed acted as any clue that his youngest had been here at all

This place wasn't a home, acknowledged John bitterly to himself and Sam was no longer pretending that it was.

The 'trappings of his picket white fence syndrome' he used to mock him for were glaringly absent. None of the familiar battered posters adorned the walls that his boy seemed to have a fondness for, nor the photos, certificates or ribbons on display that had in the past marked a room as his son's personal territory.

It was as his boy had given up that dream, accepting the harsh realities of their transitory existence and the need to personalise a place was at odds with the truth now.

A duffle bag in the corner of the room and unmade bed that's all he had to link this room to his son and it wasn't enough. Would never be enough especially when remembering the life he had shared with his wife and the family home they had built together. It had been a home, a world for his oldest son to grow up normal for four years and that was something he had never once given to his youngest.

John's inner voice cried out in disapproval. "Oh god Mary is this all I can ever give him? Is this why he hates me so?"

A shiver went down his spine on thinking on his beautiful wife and he could guess what her thoughts would have been. She would have hated what had happened to her sons, her beautiful babies as she would whisper in his ear at night as they cuddled up, safe and secure in each other's arms. Before the darkness took everything away.

Groaning at the memory John fisted away a tear feeling all of his forty odd years as he stood back on his feet, "Come on son help me out here, I can't fix any of this if you don't come home…"

Heading back to the kitchen he went to check the answer machine for messages hoping that during his time taken out to search the woods either Jim or Joshua might have tried to call.

On seeing that there were five messages waiting for him his hope flared only for it to vanish when the newest message was from Dean and that was a day old. He only half listened to the snark coming from his oldest and let the other messages play on without giving them much thought.

He was only half listening to the third message before it registered that it was the Sam's schools Vice Principal nasally voice he was listening too. _Starling. Yeah, thin man, balding, way too keen on promoting Sam's educational potential. Uber Officious Geek_ _who needed to get a life._

He frowned as the Vice Principal sing song voice requested a meeting with him and his jaw dropped on hearing next that his boy had been given two detentions in less than a week. And just what the hell was the man hinting at with some goddam Hardship fund? Why the hell would he think they'd need their freaking charity for Christ sake?

Something niggled at him, something his son had said the money he had left him had been used for a good reason and John leant over to pick up the receipts on the counter and quickly flicked through the small pile to see the one stamped with the school logo.

Thirty bucks, most of the money he had left Sam with. Now the reason for all the bags of groceries Joshua had brought back with him hit home. His boy had been on survivor rations most of the week whilst battling the stupid rules of his school.

Deflated he sunk back down on to a chair and shook his head on realising at just how bad things had gotten between him and his youngest if they couldn't even get the basics sorted out anymore.

Food, shelter and school _were_ the basics, but somewhere along the line he had delegated most of that responsibility to Dean and quite simply Sam's needs just didn't register with him anymore.

Screwing up the receipts into a tight ball he chucked them into the bin, thinking the sooner they got the hell out of Wisconsin the better.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

It was an unexpected reveal to Sam as came out of the tree line to find himself standing on a shallow bank that led down to the waters of a large lake. Grunting out his surprise he looked around wondering just how far had he travelled to get here but it was too hard to judge after his meandering journey through the trees.

Reflected on the crystal clear waters were the greying clouds racing overhead and an involuntary shiver rippled through him as the air had grown distinctively colder so that his breath curled like smoke around his face every time he exhaled.

With his throat now painfully raw he moved to the waters edge and tried to quench the fire but the icy liquid on contact with his throat made him splutter in shock. Getting past his coughing fit he tried a second time scooping another handful up this time sipping slowly and managed to get some relief from the burn in his throat.

On standing again he felt his legs wobble and a wave of dizziness hit him and for a brief second he thought he was going to bring back up the water. Breathing through his nose he gritted his teeth against the unsettling sensation then gingerly walked over to a moss covered trunk of some long dead oak and slid down to the floor resting his back against it.

Ignoring the twinges from his tender back Sam rested his head on his knees all too aware that this was only a temporary respite. At some point he would have to swallow his pride and return like a beaten pup with its tail between his legs home and face the continued fallout for his mistakes.

Sam closed his eyes wanting for the ache in his head to lessen but every time he thought of his dad's reaction the pain only worsened.

Shuddering down a chill that run down his spine he knew that he should get up and start the return journey back but his body's need for rest was compelling.

Just a few minutes he told himself, just as few short minutes to gather up his strength, to get past the ache in his muscles and the sting of his back. Time just enough to rest up a little while to help numb the pain inside of him.

As he closed his eyes his thoughts travelled to his brother and he wondered if the warmth of the Florida sun was losing its appeal and he could hope that he'd be heading back to him sooner rather than later.

If anything his time away from him brother had taught him that without Dean around there was no home and more importantly no safety valve for him to let off steam against, "Come on big brother, hurry back. Before I do something really stupid again and dad kills me for real…"

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Caleb watched his friend sleep and saw the lines of pain around his mouth and felt more than a twinge of guilt at his stunt of earlier. Slowing purposedly down he turned down the radio eyes sharp for the next exit so that he could get them holed up for the night in the nearest motel. Dean needed his meds and a good night sleep no matter how much he might want to bitch about it. And for sure as his butt muscles burned from the lack of movement a break was now long overdue.

Already Caleb knew he had been on the road longer than he had intended and with the discharging doctor's warning of the wounds being liable to infection he knew that hurrying back to Wisconsin at the expense of his friend's health just wasn't an option.

Chewing idly on his thumb Caleb thought on his last call to the youngest Winchester. Something hadn't been right with him, but now with his dad back home he could only hope this would get things back on track for the boy, especially with Dean still so far away from him.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

"_Sam…. Sammy_…._ Sam_" a familiar voice repeatedly called out to shatter that minute of rest he had wanted to take and wearily he opened his heavy eyelids to blink disoriented at being met with darkness. His head jerked up from his lap as he realised the grey skies of only a second ago were now black.

"Damn it you moron, you fell asleep," he groaned out loud. The chattering of his teeth spoke of how he had betrayed his body by daring to sleep out in the open and he rubbed his hands briskly over his arms and legs and tried to get some feeling back into them.

Under the brisk rubbing the numbness turned into pins and needles as the circulation increased and as his limbs came back to life the chill receded enough for Sam to lift his head and looked around his surroundings. Panic fluttered inside him on noting just how unreadable the landscape was and he was left wondering how he was going to get back in the dark without even a torch to light the way.

Shaking his head in disgust, guessing at his sour father's reaction for defying the most basic of rules, of not staying out after dusk, Sam confessed bitterly in a hoarse whisper, "He's so gonna skin me alive for this one."

"If that's the man whose been hollering like a mad man these last few hours I don't think he'll have the strength left to even cuff you round the back of the head," said a deep knowing voice behind him.

Startled Sam staggered up on to shaky feet and turned round to see a solid looking youth leaning against a tree, arms crossed, with an amused look on his face. "You must be this 'Sam' that some seriously mean looking dude been yelling up a storm for."

Defensively Sam took a step back, searching for anyone else hiding in the shadows. He knew by how his legs felt so leaden that if the older kid was trouble he'd be hard push to get away from him "And you'd be?"

"Matthew Merton, Matt to my friends, who has to confess at just how amazed I am that you slept through that racket. Half the county could hear that guy hollering out your name. You must have rocks in your head not to have heard him. "

A blush crept to Sam's cheeks as he tried to stop his limbs from trembling, "Just fell asleep is all…"

"Stupid place to do that unless you really do want to end up like a popsicle," muttered Matt as he pulled himself off the tree and walked to the waters edge. Picking up a stone he skimmed it across the water in a series of hops. "You'd have frozen to death out here this time of year, you know that, right?"

Sam didn't answer and instead looked cautiously through his bangs at the older boy, noting he was shorter than him by a good few inches but had the distinct advantage of muscle borne weight.

Then his eyes rested on the distinctive sports jacket and his top lip curled at recognising the Lincoln High logo. Another sports jock to cause him more trouble and he spun back round, eyeing the woodland wondering just how he was supposed to navigate his way back in the dark. Turning his back on him he slowly climbed up the bank towards the trees.

Matt reacted at the sound of footsteps and raced up to his side, "Hey, where you heading off to now?"

"Back up there," answered Sam vaguely with a wave of his hands to the woods. He wasn't stupid enough to think his dad was anywhere near close to forgiving him but he also knew that he had to get back. There really was nowhere else to go and he was just too tired to think on any other solution.

Chuckling at the younger kid's determination to get going Matt could still sense that the boy was fired up enough to just take off. He had been in these woods all his life and he wasn't prepared for some green horn to go off and spark a major alert, "Look hold fire, you'll get lost in there this time of night. It be better and quicker if you went to the road, at least then you could see where'd ya be going."

Throwing him a confused look Sam shook his head, wiping a sleeve over his face to mop up the perspiration tickling away at him, "I didn't know there was a road nearby…."

Matt paused and studied Sam with worry in his eyes, "You don't look so hot kid, you best shadow me out of here, I left my bike up a bit so I'm heading that way myself."

"Thanks," remarked Sam as he fingered his sore throat and guessed he was coming down with a cold. Then a thought hit him and his mouth went dry as he asked, "This man calling for me, you see him?"

"Only in the distance and believe that's what I kept between us. But he was tall, fit looking, dark hair, about forty I guess and looked as pissed as hell about something. Kept on calling your name over and over before I lost sight of him."

Sam drew in a long breath of relief, the description at odds with that of the dead Burnett. "My dad I'm guessing."

Merton shrugged and started on the walk back throwing over his shoulder to Sam, "Come on then, about time to head back to the road. It's getting late and I aim to be back home before my ma kicks up a storm on me missing Sunday night supper."

They walked in silence, skirting the edge of the woodlands with Sam following as quickly as he could after his nearly acquired guide who despite his shorter and stockier frame moved surprisingly fast over the ground in the darkness.

For his part the older teenager found himself slowing down as the walk continued, aware that Sam was struggling to keep up. Halfway to the road he stopped and waited for Sam to catch up. "Lets take a breather. Okay?"

Sam nodded his approval and propped himself up against the side of massive oak as his legs once again felt like jelly. "Thanks man," Sam offered up weakly when he saw Matt waiting patiently for him.

Finding a long twig by his feet Matt picked it up to poke idly into the blanket of rotting leaves on the ground before darting a look up at Sam he asked, "I don't mean to butt my head in where its not wanted but I am kind of curious as to what made you hike it out here in the first place? Not the safest of places to take a nap is it?"

Chewing on his bottom lip Sam thought on an answer before shrugging, "Just needed to give my dad some space and try and think things through. Got to try and decide what to do next…"

Nodding his understanding Matt threw away his stick and looked at Sam a little more intently, "Having a bad time with the folks I take it?"

Sam bowed his head and sighed, "You could say that. My dad hates me big time right about now. Wanted me gone last time we spoke."

"Yeah well I don't think so kid, not now. Your pa kinda sounded a like mama bear calling for her lost cub."

A small snicker escaped as Sam resisted the notion of his dad being likened to anything female, "No way dude, I think he's more likely to be a Grizzly looking to tear my hide apart. I'm gonna be so chewed into little pieces when he gets hold of me."

Matt shrugged having had his own fair share of showdown with his own dad not to judge the boy in front of him, "You going to head home when you get back to the road or are you planning to give your old man the slip for the night?"

Shaking his head Sam looked back at his guide and gave up a small bitter smile as he wiped more sweat from his brow and held back the stammer in his throat as he answered, "No, my brother would kill me if I didn't go back. He told me, warned me not to screw up with him gone and now I've let him down too. I have to go back and fix that…"

The older kid gave him a soft smile of understanding, "So you're fucked if you do, fucked if you don't, eh kiddo? Sounds to me like you just need to get back home and let your dad sort it all out for you."

Stalling at his hearing Matt's words, at how familiar he sounded to his own brother Sam asked, "Let me guess you're an older brother?"

Chuckling Matt nodded and then confessed, "Yeah I'm a big brother alright. Got two younger brothers and three sisters back indoors. Why'd ya think I needed some peace and quiet by the lake this afternoon? It really can be hell on earth in my house when the screaming wars start up and I'm left to play piggy in the middle."

Sam felt his eyes tear up at hearing the older boy's words and guessed that's just how his own brother felt at times with him and dad and he stuttered out, "Sorry. It can't be much fun for you I guess."

"Its not all bad kid, and believe me I wouldn't trade places with anyone. For me family is everything and I see my siblings growing up so fast around me it's scary at times. They'll be off doing their own things, leading their own lives and I'll be a big brother out of a job before you know it."

Again just listening to him speak Sam felt drawn towards Matt, but knew it was just his need to have his own big brother back in his life. He hadn't realised just how badly he had been missing him till now and he had to wipe at his eyes to stop the tears from falling as he offered up in a hoarse whisper, "No, believe me you'll always be their big brother, just like mine is to me."

On seeing just how upset their talk had made the younger boy Matt stood up straight, suddenly determined to get him back to the road, "Come on lets get going again. Its not much further to go."

When Sam nodded his agreement the silence started up again between them, both comfortable enough to let it stay that way as Matt led the way out of the woods. Besides for Sam it was all he could do to draw in enough air to keep the burn from his lungs so speaking was no longer an option.

The path back to the road was up a small incline which Matt could do blindfolded, so the dark of the night did not intimidate him, but he made sure that he slowed his stride and that he remained in sight for the boy trailing behind him.

It took another twenty minutes for Sam to see the outline of the road through the trees and he chuckled at the sight instantly aware of where his journey had taken him, that he was only half a mile away from the cabin.

Matt stopped at the edge of the road and waited for Sam to catch up. Again he looked him over and saw the flush on his face and felt impelled to ask, "You gonna be okay from here kid?"

Sucking in a long breath Sam nodded wearily, "Yeah my place is just at the top of the road."

"That's good. I'm heading back down the road to chow down on my ma's roast chicken dinner. Best damn cook in Baudette."

Sam looked back into the woods and shuddered at the thought of trying to get himself out of there on his own, "Thanks for bailing my stupid ass out like this."

Matt smirked gently back at him, "Make sure there's no next time as the weather around these parts can turn pretty nasty in the blink of an eye this time of year. My guess it's going to bucket down anytime soon so you best get yourself home."

Pulling his jacket around him tighter against the deepening breeze Sam shivered involuntary and threw a shy smile at his newly acquired friend, "Like I said thanks Matt."

"Well I'm going to go pick up my bike and head on home myself," remarked Matt as he turned around throwing over his shoulder, "Hope you and dad work things out Sam."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

The deluge was so heavy that the road ahead was just a blanket of grey and visibility was down to almost nothing.

Being a man of god Pastor Jim liked to think that his thoughts were normally charitable but right about now he was feeling anything but altruistic as he swerved to avoid another idiot on the road. "Stupid moronic dumbass," he cussed out loud as he gave the spotty faced teenager the finger as he swerved and narrowly avoided hitting the on coming car that was decidedly on the wrong side of the road.

Glancing at his rear view mirror as the car pulled away he shook his head. The boy looked barely old enough to be out of diapers never mind having any right to be driving on the roads. Young enough in fact to be about Sam's age and his heart thrummed in his chest wondering just where the boy was and what had happened to drive him away from his home.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

All the lights were on in the cabin like a beacon in the darkness when Joshua returned and his stomach sank heavy at the sight. It meant that the youngest Winchester hadn't come home yet and as the night grew longer he could only guess what was happening with both the boy and his father.

Before he even had a chance to turn off the engine the front door was yanked open and John raced outside to meet him. Joshua couldn't help but cringe on watching his friend's face fall open in disappointment on seeing the passenger seat empty. "Sorry Johnny I searched all of Baudette town centre and no one has seen your boy. You heard anything from Jim yet?"

John shook his head, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "No, and I've got nothing to go on here either. Seems Sam turned into a bit of a loner. I checked the phone records and he's not called anyone except Dean this whole time he's been in Wisconsin. Leaves me with diddly squat to track him with."

"Your boy was always too smart for us dumb old crocks but I really think he's just blowing off steam here," remarked Josh as he got out to stand by John's side.

Rubbing the stubble on his chin John glared darkly at the other hunter, "You don't know Sam, he's as stubborn as they come Joshua. He sets a mind to do something he does it. If he's heading back to California or his brother there'll be no stopping him."

Sucking in a breath Joshua shook his head in denial, "No man, he wouldn't do that. I bet you that your boy is just kicking his heals somewhere nice and warm licking his wounds. More than likely got some old dear mothering him, plying him with hot chocolate and freshly baked cookies as we speak."

Grimly John swallowed back bile, "That old dear could be a freaking axe murderer for all we know."

Punching a tight fist into the palm of his other hand John shook his head fiercely, "Screw this. I'm done hanging around. The road down to the gas station is over a mile long and there's at least six properties Sam could have holed up in. Its time to go kicking down some doors before it gets too late."

Joshua, eyes widening at hearing the ferocity of John's words "You intend just barging in there dude? The householders might not take too kindly to that."

"Screw the fucking neighbours, I have to find my boy. Its not safe for him to be out there unprotected like this."

Joshua knew better to try and reason with John Winchester when he got like this. "Okay John lets first to leave a note for Sam in case he gets back before we do. Don't want him taking off again on us do we."

John nodded, "Your right, I'll tell him to park his butt inside and to give your cell a ring." He put a firm hand on his friend's shoulder and threw him a small grateful smile. "Thanks Josh, I just can't seem to think straight at the moment."

Sourly Joshua shook his head, eyes darkening with remorse as he stepped out of his friend's reach, "Oh god Johnny don't you thank me, don't you dare. If I hadn't made a complete pigs ear of things none of this would be happening right now."

**oo0o00o0o**

When the first hard splatter of rain hit his cheek Sam looked up to the heavens in disbelief, "Just freaking great. You couldn't hold off for another half hour?"

Signalling his resignation at getting another soaking with a shake of his head Sam pulled up the collar to his jacket and bent his head forwards to keep the water from his eyes. It was a small comfort but it managed to stop the sleety rain from hitting him square on as he hunched in on himself.

"Just a bit of rain," he spat out bitterly to himself remembering his dad's contempt for him on hearing that was the reason Burnett had stopped

Experienced now to walking home in the dark and the rain he knew better than to walk in the middle of the road and tried to keep to the edges of the tarmac. It was slippery under foot as the margin between the tarmac and ground soon muddied up. Too tired to pay it proper attention Sam misjudged the edge one time too many and his foot slipped under him so that he fell forwards to land with a soft grunt of surprise on his knees.

"No you don't idiot boy," he whispered to himself as he kneeled on the ground feeling the rain beat down on his head whilst his body refused to do anything but stay there. Pulling his jacket tighter around him not quite understanding why he felt so hot but still kept on shivering he spat out again, "Get up. Now."

Sheer will power mingled with that stubborn streak it seems all Winchester's are born with enabled him to push himself off the ground to rock back on his heals to sway dangerously again as his body rebelled its own hurts at him.

Blinking through his rain sodden bangs he tried to take a step forwards but the sting in his back flared so sharply that he would have vomited if he had anything in his stomach to bring up. Instead he was forced to spit out acid tinged salvia that had pooled in his mouth and he drew a shaky hand across his lips to wipe away the spittle.

Glancing miserably at the road ahead he knew it was only a short distance to the cabin but in the continuing deluge it felt like he was facing a marathon. Plus the prospect of having to face his father again despite his words to Matt made him feel sick to his stomach.

Pulling his thoughts away from his dad a noise, the powerful thrum of an approaching engine, made Sam spin round to find a large vehicle headed his way. The beam of the headlights was blinding and memories of Burnett exploded in his head.

Sam's first instinct was to run but his trembling legs refused to co-operate keeping him rooted to the spot as the car screamed to a sharp halt just yards from him.

Still blinded by the headlights Sam shuddered as the driver's door swung open and a shadowy figure got out. The pounding in his head and chest grew so loud he didn't hear what the figure said as he ran towards him but when a tight hand landed to grip hard his shoulder whatever fear kept him frozen dissipated in a hot scream of denial and he lashed out.

Swinging as best he could his fist connected with cartilage and he was rewarded with the hand disappearing from his shoulder.

For Jim the pain made him grunt out loud in shock as the gush of blood warmed his lip and chin before he fell backwards to land hard on his rump. Momentarily stunned Jim just sat there gingerly trying to feel for any breaks on his nose before he shot back to his feet and growled out angrily, "Samuel, what the hell are you playing at here?"

"You can't touch me you fucking bastard. You hear me?" warned Sam over his shoulder as his legs found the strength to take him away, back up the road, in a loping trot. His feverish eyes hadn't even taken on board that it was the pastor he had struck as the memories of Burnett chased after him.

For his part Jim watched open mouthed as the boy took off. Wiping his bloodied nose hastily on his sleeve he jumped back in his car and chased after him. It only took a few seconds before Jim slewed his car ahead and forced Sam to a halt.

As he exited the vehicle he could see the wild panic on the boy's face and wondered just what the hell was happening here. Studying Sam a little closer he could see clearly that the boy was unwell as his skin although pale bore the flush of red on his cheeks and his half closed eyes spoke of a fever.

Opening up his arms wide in supplication as the boy rocked on the balls of his feet readying for flight Jim softened his voice, "Sammy. Samuel. Listen son, its me Jim, Pastor Jim. I've come to take you back home. Get in the car and let me drive you back, okay?"

Despite the rain Sam found his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and he could only shake his head in denial, eyes going wide as he watched the passenger door being opened for him to get in. Just like it how it had played out two nights before.

All Jim wanted was to get the boy away from the filthy weather and back to the sanctuary of a warm bed not understanding the boy's fear and he murmured gently, "Come on Sam let's just get you home, your dad is waiting for you."

At the mention of his father Sam flinched and pushed hurriedly past the pastor, "No I mustn't. Gotta suck it up like he said. It's only a little bit of rain. Already hates me enough for before…."

Not even half armed with the facts of what Sam had gone through the Pastor made another mistake by grabbing at the fleeing boy's elbow. This time Jim heard the warning snarl but was unable to duck fast enough to miss as another fist slammed into his face.

Rocked at the force of the strike he shook his head and felt the split in his left eyebrow bleed freely. Hastily, ignoring the strike, he ran after Sam and used his added height and weight to iterally haul him off his feet as his arms went around his waist and chest to keep him in a tight hold.

There was an attempt at a struggle from the gangly teenager, but whatever strength that had seen him smack him hard in the face twice was now gone and only Sam's ragged breathing mustered up any resistance.

No words, no sobs, no pleas to let him go, only soft painful gasps as his body gave up the pretence of having anything left to fight with.

Sensing the capitulation and all too aware of the tremors rippling threw Sam at his touch the pastor lessened his grip on and slowly turned him round to face him.

The boy's head had sunk in defeat to his chest and he gently lifted up his chin up to stare him square in the eye as he dared to plead, "Please for the love of god Sammy I'm not here to hurt you. I promise. Let me just take you home."

**Tbc**

_I know, I know, another long slowly built up chapter, believe me there was a tonne of stuff I have to cut out just to get this posted. It all leads up to when John comes face to face with his feverish boy and all the guilt he has been saddling on his young shoulders manifests itself in some most unusual ways!_


	10. Chapter 10

_Usual disclaimers apply, and as always because I'm an absolute clutz all mistakes are mine. Really nervous about this chapter as it is so Sammy centric in angst. Want to __say that I know I am long past posting this chapter as scheduled - mainly because of a vampiric RL . But my thanks for all the wonderful reviews, PM and nudges of support still hold true despite the fact that I havent been able to say my thanks across the board for your support. Seriously I am attempting to lock up my gloriously mercurial teenage from hell in a dark cupboard along with my bulimic cat Casper that I am now convinced is possessed (as in let me shove my furry paw down my gob and splatter every available floor space in every room in sickly cat vomit ala Linda Blair) this weekend so hopefully I can get back and say to one and all my thanks then. _

_Okay coming down from caffeine high so sorry for the ramble. And despite my tardiness reviews seriously devoured. Rozzy_

**Growing Pains – Chapter 10: Fever**

White noise hissed in his head as viciously real as any army of pseudo-gremlins pick axing away in his brain might do. Despite it though Sam's face puckered up mirroring his confusion as he asked, "Pastor Jim? That really you?"

"Yes my boy its me," answered Jim with a soft smile, just glad of some recognition. Gripping his shoulder in a gentle squeeze he murmured softly, "Forgive me lad I didn't mean to scare you when I pulled to a halt like that. I must have seemed like some crazed madman chasing after you."

Sam's vision swam and he had to shake his head before the world came back into view again. Then as Murphy's words sunk in he glimpsed at his own split knuckles and then at the blood spilling freely down the older man's face the truth hit home, "Oh god, I thought... I hit you, didn't I?

Smiling weakly Jim answered truthfully, "You certainly take after your father in having hands of iron!"

Eyes widening in alarm Sam couldn't contain another shudder and pulled himself guilty away from the man's touch taking a full step backwards, "I… I didn't mean to hurt you."

On seeing what looked like panic settling in again with the boy Jim shook his head and tried once again to reach out to him with verbal persuasion, "I know Sam. It doesn't mean anything. Lets just get out of the rain. You look close to done in here."

Swallowing convulsively Sam was unsure what to do next. Eyes nervously followed Murphy as he opened the passenger door and indicated for him to hop in but he couldn't force his legs to move. This is not what his dad would expect from him the voice of reason kept screaming in his head. Not after the mistakes he had made with Burnett.

Impatience breaking through Jim huffed out, "Now see here Sam I don't know about you but I am close to freezing here. Just get in the car before we both die of exposure."

Fingering his split knuckles to his lips, tasting the blood in the cracks, evidence of yet another slip-up, he could already hazard a guess to what his dad's reaction would be this time.

Shaking not just from the cold Sam admitted, "I try to be good but every time I get it wrong. Why do I keep on doing that Pastor? Why can't I show him I can be as good as Dean and suck it up like he would, why?"

Jim didn't have time to muster a reply as Sam spun purposely on his heals and headed away from him, head bowed once again in defence of the continued deluge determined to be on his way back up to the lane under his own steam.

For a boy so near to collapse only seconds before Jim couldn't mask his surprise at the speed he had taken off, "Please Lord give me a break here," he muttered under his breath wiping the rain out of his eyes before calling after him, "This doesn't make a lick of sense Sam. Why are you doing this?"

"Because I'm a stupid no hope waste of space," laughed back Sam weakly though the humour was lost on the pastor.

Shouting out his frustration Jim's voice raised a full octave, "This is not funny young man, get back here now."

Jim's mind scrambled for an answer on what to do next when Sam ignored him not liking how out of control things were. John's youngest clearly possessed that annoying Winchester family characteristic of being just plain stubborn and wasn't about to let him help him.

"This is beyond madness," he growled out loud before hopping back in the car and chased up the hill after his wayward escapee. It took only a few seconds to play catch up and like before he slewed across the lane to block Sam's path.

On exiting the car Jim made another grab for Sam as he tried to blindly walk past him, managing to snatch at his arm to spin him around to face him. Annoyance mixed with concern made his voice sharp as he spat out, "Listen you young pup you will get your sorry butt into the car or so help me…"

Tensing for another explosive reaction from the youngest Winchester he instead cursed out loud as he watched Sam visibly sag and felt him slipping away from his grip as his too long coltish legs seemingly lost the power to keep him upright.

Hastily Jim snatched at the front of Sam's jacket to steady him, frightened that he would hurt himself on the hard road surface if he fell. Confident that he managed to stop his descent he wrapped his arms around him in a tight cinch and whispered his desperation in his ear, "Come on don't make things so hard for an old man like me, let me help you here son."

A muffled voice met his plea as Sam's despair spilled out in a weak voice, "Not good enough to be anyone's son. Not_ his _anyway_s_."

The unnatural heat radiating out from Sam was a true indication to how sick the boy was and Jim held him tighter, "Shush Sammy, don't say such things. Lets get you back home to your dad and things can be made better. Okay?"

Sam pulled his head up away from the warmth and the comfort of the Pastor's shoulder, and tried to find the strength again to support his own weight taking a cautious step away from him as he admitted through chattering teeth, "You can't make things okay. He said… he just hates me."

"Ah no lad, your father has been worried sick about you, as have we all. I'm begging you to trust me now and let me get you home before you make yourself even sicker. Please Samuel."

Jim couldn't hide his relief when Sam studied him with half closed eyes before he threw him an almost imperceptible nod of agreement. "That's a good lad."

Quickly he guided Sam back to the car not daring to look a gift horse in the mouth as he knew it was more to do with the fact that the boy looked like he couldn't walk another step unaided rather than willingly want to follow his commands.

For his part Sam had gotten into the car trying to quell the flutter of fear in his tummy the action brought. The pastor had asked him to trust him but he couldn't help but flinch as the driver's door slammed shut and memories of his last car journey came flooding back.

His disquiet increased when the pastor went to pull the seatbelt across and he found himself pushing him away voicing out his distress at his proximity, "No, no, don't"

"Saints preserves us lad you're just going to keep on adding to my grey hair if you keep on acting up like this," growled out Jim giving up the battle when Sam looked ready to hit him again.

Murmuring under his breath as he pulled away, "It's just a short ride, no seatbelt if that's what you want." He reasoned he would just have to drive slower especially with the dangerous driving conditions and the skittish passenger by his side.

Sam dropped his head to rest it on the dash as confusion tore away at him. The thrum of the engine vibrated through his skull matching the constant throb in his head. He knew that the pastor wasn't Burnett but it still felt wrong to be here with him. His dad already so disappointed in him would have expected more from him and he muttered out his confusion, "Its not right. I'm doing it all wrong again."

"What's not right Sam?" Jim eyed him with concern, noting the flush riding the top of his angular cheekbones, wondering just how much of what he had seen and heard from the boy tonight was fever induced.

Pulling himself up Sam shook his head, looking through the windscreen as the car ate up the distance to the cabin and to his father. "I shouldn't be doing this. Not again. He wants me to be like Dean and suck it up, make him proud, but all I do is make him ashamed that I'm his son."

Disagreeing Jim quickly returned with his own thoughts, "Somehow I doubt even your dad could thinks such a silly thing. You're a fine young man Sam Winchester, anyone that knows you thinks so."

Unable to spare a look at Sam having to focus on the road as it went round a sharp bend he struggled to keep the car gripped to the slippery road surface and didn't see the look of disbelief shot his way.

For Sam only the condemning memories of his dad's accusing words about Burnett screamed freshly at him now. Through the fog in his head an urgency to be out of the car and not repeat the mistakes he had made two nights earlier fuelled his actions as he agitatedly curled his fingers over the door handle.

A hand, heavy and forceful, slapped Sam's fingers away before a strong tug at his collar pulled him firmly back in his seat. Tersely Jim barked out "For heavens sake stop this nonsense before you make me crash the damn car."

The pastor was rewarded by a tremulous gasp from Sam not realising the impact of his words as they dredged up even more frightening memories. Confused he watched as Sam shook and he knew it was more than just from the cold, his eyes showing true fear as he mutely shook his head.

Instantly Jim regretted being so gruff and tried to explain away his temper, "I'm sorry Sam but you jumping out of a moving car would have caused a world of grief. You know your daddy would skin me alive if I let you get hurt in anyway."

A humourless laugh met his words and Sam turned a feverish face at the older man and added in a hoarse whisper, "He'll be to busy skinning me first."

Slowing down even further, mindful of Sam's apparent kamikaze mindset, Jim shook his head in denial, "Your not well Sam, that much is clear. You need to get better and then you'll see things cannot be as bad as you seem to think them. You know it might help if you tell me what happened today."

When there was no answer he placed a gentle hand above Sam's knee to try and pass on his support for the youngest Winchester. It was something he had done automatically since the boy beside him had been a toddler, but it ignited a reaction from the teenager that left him utterly shaken.

For Sam it had been a touch too much, evoking memories of Burnett's fingers squeezing hard on his thigh and the suggestion that went with it. With all his might he pushed Jim's hand away and screamed out, "You keep your stinking hands off me."

Startled by his reaction Jim skidded to a halt, wondering what was causing the boy's panic again. As he watched Sam withdraw further from him he was forced to ask, "You readying to hit me again Samuel?" When Sam mutely shook his head in denial he asked, "Then just what the hell is going on here with you?"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," answered Sam barely able to breathe through the terror pounding in his chest, eyes brimming with unshed tears of fear and pain, "Oh god, I'm so sorry I don't mean to freak out."

All Jim wanted to do was hold him tight and make things right for him but he held back. Instead his hands trembled on the steering wheel frightened of distressing his young charge even more and he was forced to confess, "Sam you're scaring me more than a little here. I won't touch you I promise or ask any more questions if that's what you want. Lets just get you back to your dad."

When there was no response other than Sam panicked breathing lessening he swallowed hard and started up the engine, left wondering just what on earth had happened to the boy to leave him violent one second and seemingly broken the next.

It took just a few short minutes to get them back to the cabin and the silence remained between them with Jim not trusting himself not to say or do the wrong thing with the youngster. Finally as he parked up he dared throw Sam a concerned look and asked gently, "We're here. You need my help getting out?"

When Sam shook his head Jim had to stand back and watch as he inched his way cautiously out of the car and made his way slowly back to the cabin. Every instinct in him screamed that the boy was about ready to fall flat on his face but reluctantly he was forced to stay on the sidelines as Sam's reaction in the car still scared him into inaction.

After a long minute Jim dared to pass by him and pushed open the front door to step inside calling out for the absent John. When there was no answer he turned his attention back to Sam noticing with a frown how the boy hovered seemingly frozen by the open door unsure whether to cross the line of salt or not.

"Your dad's not here Sam. I guess he's out there looking for you. Come in and lets set about getting you dry then we'll ring him."

Lifting a heavy leg slowly over the line of salt Sam owlishly looked at the thick layer as water splashed down on it from his dripping clothes and hair. Gasping in concern he froze, "No, stupid - see…have to redo it all over again."

Risking physical contact Jim caught at his elbow and forcibly guided Sam's trembling form over the salt line, "Don't worry about that now Sam. I can sort it out for you."

His stomach flip-flopped at the genuine smile of relief that crossed the youngster's face and feeling a little more confident that he had his trust back again he steered him into the kitchen.

The heat that hit them only reinforced Sam's delicate state as his shivering continued. Carefully he made Sam sit on a chair and slowly peeled off his sodden jacket only for a snort of disbelief to escape on seeing only a thin long sleeved t-shirt underneath. "Blast it to hell its no wonder your sick. You realise you're no longer in California right?"

"Wisconsin," murmured back Sam as his ability to think clearly once again deserted him as he wished the world of hurt his body was in to just up and disappear, "I think I don't really like Wisconsin."

Jim closed his eyes briefly before nodding at Sam's honest statement, "Doesn't really matter son, let's just get you dried off and into some warm clothes."

Glad that Sam appeared to be warming up from the heat of the open stove he dared to hurry off to the bathroom to snatch up a towel and then a blanket from the bedroom. On his return he could see the boy was still shivering but was grateful at the sight because it meant that hypothermia hadn't yet set in.

"No, I can do that," muttered Sam with a note of petulance to his voice as he squirmed away from Murphy who had started to rub a towel through his hair. "Not that freaking helpless."

"Okay Samuel, you do that," agreed Jim softly as Sam slowly pushed the towel over his dripping hair.

Knowing how sensitive Sam was at the moment he didn't push to get the rest of his wet clothing off and instead draped the blanket around his trembling shoulders. "I'm going to ring your dad. You stay put and get yourself warmed up. Try and get out of those wet clothes as you're shivering up a storm son. Looks like you've caught yourself more than a bit of a chill."

He got a reaction as Sam shook his head at mention of his father and whispered sorely, "He's gonna be mad again isn't he?"

"He might be upset but never mad at you," Sam just huddled into himself at his words and Jim quickly asked, "What on earth possessed you to wander around in weather like this. I thought you had more sense son?"

Biting his bottom lip Sam dipped his head at the rapprochement, "Just dumb is all…"

Huffing out his disbelief Jim wiped the cuff of his shirt over his split brow to stop the congealing blood dribbling in his eye and thought better of asking any more questions. That could wait as he watched the boy shutting down all over again.

Digging into his pocket he pulled out his phone and remembering that John had lost his cell called Joshua instead.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

All he could think as Caleb stripped him of all dignity and control as he tended his wounds was why hadn't the bastard just kept on driving rather than drag his tired shell out of the car into this? Would it really had been so terrible for the idiot to keep on driving because despite what he said he could have suffered another hundred miles of discomfort than be stuck in this prettified motel room just about now.

"Jesus Dean stop your squirming. I can't do this if you keep acting like a seven year old," groused Caleb bitterly as he pulled of the second from last dressing off Dean's sore frame. At the sight he traced hurriedly his fingers over the puckering wound and hissed slowly.

"Leave it out you fucking pervert," muttered Dean tersely as he felt Caleb's cold fingers linger on the wound on his right buttock.

The fact that he had his face buried in a pillow that smelt of lavender, on a bed in a motel room that screamed pastel pink Barbie, only made things worse and he squirmed accordingly. "Just slap a fresh dressing on and stop eyeing my ass."

"Wish I could dude, really wish I could," snapped back Caleb as he looked over the red and angry wound looking ready to turn septic on him fingers probing it as gently as he could as he muttered distractedly as he reached into his bag of medical supplies, "This is not my idea of having a good time. Believe me."

"Oh you fucking bitch that hurts," groused Dean as the sting of the antiseptic cream made itself felt, "I think you really are enjoying this. Making me suffer like this."

"Dean will ya stop being such a wuss," snapped back Caleb as he pulled back the last dressing for inspection on his left buttock and was thankful that at least this one seemed to be healing better than the other on the right cheek. "You know if you swallowed your pain meds when I told you to then they would have kicked in by now and you wouldn't be feeling any of this."

"Don't like them," pouted back Dean unable to stop a hiss of pain escape as Caleb's fingers set upon the last wound on his torn backside.

"Well I don't like you without them. Biggest pain in the ass ever."

Dean suddenly giggled under him and the absurdity of what he had just said and the situation they both found themselves hit home with Caleb and he confessed, "Dude could we be anymore gay?"

Turning his head to look at his friend with a dirty smirk Dean growled back, "Look man you're the one touching my ass right now. If any one has to question their sexuality it's certainly not me."

Eying the wounds with a huff of annoyance Caleb set about putting on clean dressings with an edge of irritation making his fingers less gentle, "Your such an ungrateful bastard Winchester. Not many friends would be doing this, patching up your sorry ass, not for love or money."

Wincing as he felt the less than gentle ministrations on his backside Dean carried on with his own tirade, "Yeah, well a good friend would remember to warm up their goddam hands before making a grab of the merchandise. Your bedside manner really stinks."

Caleb rolled his eyes as he put on the last dressing, "God I need a beer. A woman, and then another a beer or twelve."

Dean felt the pressure lessen on the bed and snapped his head round to see Caleb heading for the bathroom to wash his hands. Awkwardly he pulled up his jeans, wincing at the renewed tenderness movement caused him and slowly rolled on to his side and waited for his friend to reappear.

He couldn't disguise a frown when Caleb returned and picked up his jacket readying to go out. His need for a beer and something else perhaps outweighing his need to be on the receiving end of his foul temper he guessed.

Feeling more than a little guilty for his bad temper Dean offered up, "Hey man I didn't mean to have such a bitch fest. Just hard you know being like this."

"Just take your meds and we'll be cool," answered Caleb as he walked over to the bedside cabinet and dropped the bottles of medication by the tumbler of water. As he slipped on his jacket he asked, "You want pizza or burgers?"

Smiling in appreciation that he wasn't about to be deserted by his old friend Dean propped himself on his elbow, "Both."

Snorting out his amusement at the choice Caleb checked for his wallet before heading for the door only to still as Dean called after him. "Don't forget the frigging beer. Or the women."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

"John calm down before you blow an aneurysm," demanded Joshua as he heard the splintering of wood as the door to an old shed was kicked open. Anxiously he looked back to the main house thankful that its occupants were not at home. Yet.

Ignoring the warning John stepped inside hollering out loudly, "Sammy, you in here?"

When there was no answer he swung the torch around the cobweb covered shed full of old work tools and little else and his face souring at the realisation that there was no place for a tall gangly teenager to hide away in.

"Damn it son don't do this to me." John's voice cracked as he added, "Just where the hell are you?"

Waiting outside Joshua shuddered as icy water dripped down the back of his neck and he pulled the zipper to his heavy jacket all the way up. Leaving John to further search the rambling collection of out houses he trundled back to the front of the main house to make sure that he hadn't missed anything important. Years of experience enabled him to distinguish between his and John's muddy footprints but of Sam's there was no signs.

Fear pinged away at him for the missing Winchester as the weather had turned decidedly for the worse with the temperature dipping close to freezing now. "You better be sitting in some old dear's living room sipping cocoa Sam safe and warm or your dad is gonna kill me for real this time."

When his phone rang out loud Joshua jumped slightly and felt a little foolish at his reaction, "Getting a little punch drunk you stupid fool."

His eyebrow spiked upwards in surprise on seeing Jim's I.D. flash up. "Hey Jimmy. You got to Baudette I take it despite the weather."

"Yes, I'm at the cabin. I presume that John is with you right now."

"Yeah we're at the bottom of the road. Papa Winchester has been terrorising the neighbours in search of his boy. Not a pretty sight I can tell you."

"Yeah well you just tell him that I've got Samuel and that he needs to get back here _now_." His final word came out in a condemning shout.

Relief washed over him and Joshua shouted out his appreciation, "Oh that's freaking wonderful news Jim. I'll go fetch the old grouch and we'll head straight back. "

"You do that because believe me when I say I want answers that's left a fifteen year old boy near half frozen to death thinking that his daddy hates him."

"Oh Jesus JM – just tell me that fool kid is fine, right?"

"Not by a long chalk," spat back Jim. "Sam seems traumatised, so much so when I stopped him on the road he threw a major wobble and near knocked my block off. You want to tell me what's been going on with the poor child?"

Sucking in a breath his fears resurfaced at wondering just how damaged Sam had been by Burnett but Joshua could offer little back to Jim, "Like I said earlier things went well and truly pear shaped with John and his boy. They both said terrible things to each other and Sam took off before John could do any damage control. Look Murphy I'll fill you in when we get back. Okay?"

"You do that. Just get that idiot of a father up here as soon as you can. His boy needs him."

Joshua flinched as his cell went dead more than a little surprised at the depth of the Pastor's anger. It took a lot to rile the man and even more for him to express true anger. Turning back to where he had left John he hollered out, "John listen up, Murphy's got Sam. Lets vamoose out of here."

In a matter of seconds John was jogging up to him his eyes swimming in relief, "Jim has my boy for sure?"

"Yeah. They're both back at the cabin. Gotta warn you that our usually sweet toned pastor sounded really pissed," remarked Joshua as he chased after his friend back to the truck.

"Doesn't matter as long as my boy is back home," answered John all too aware of what his mistakes had caused today. "He said he was okay right?"

"Just that Sam was half frozen and had also tried to knock his block. His words, not mine."

Taken aback at the news John stumbled to a halt, "Sam hit him? Anything else?"

"Just that he wanted words with us. I think we're in trouble here Johnny. Jim sounded really scary mad."

Nodding his understanding John face still split wide in relief. "I can take a tongue lashing as long as my boy is safe and sound."

"Speak for yourself," groused back Joshua, "I haven't had my ass tanned verbally like that since I was in the fifth grade and Mrs McGregor near made me piss my pants."

**o0o0o0o0o**

Sam's head felt unnaturally heavy refusing to remain supported as he rested his chin on his chest. The painful throb of earlier in the day was now a constant headache that wasn't helped by the debilitating shivers rippling through him.

Half aware he could hear Jim talking in the next room somewhat surprised at the ire in his voice though he couldn't make out the words, just glad they weren't being directed at him.

Tiredly he realised that at some point that he had stopped drying his hair as a drip of water run off his nose. Brushing it away with the back of his hand he tried to raise his head back up but the effort was too much and he leant back into his chest, not caring that his still wet hair covered his face.

A moment later he felt the towel being tugged from his lap but could offer up no resistance as the pastor started to rub it gently over his head. "You look like a half drowned rat Samuel. Not your best look I can tell you."

A small soft smile on his tired features greeted his remark before Sam randomly added his words coming out in a long drawl, "Dean he hates…… rats."

Jim smiled back, glad of the gentle interaction as he continued to towel off the long tangle of wet hair. He chuckled out loud, "Sure I remember New York two summers back when your big girl's blouse of a brother screamed like a banshee when one of those pesky little critters dropped on his shoulder in that cellar before going north and slipped inside of his collar."

"Yeah," grinned back Sam thinking on the memory, "That was some major girl time wasn't it?"

"Honestly son I don't know who was more scared, your dad on hearing him scream like that or Dean when that rat just upped and disappeared down his shirt. It was a good thing you had his back, wasn't it Sam?"

Sam closed his eyes at the memory and then threw the pastor a weak smile. "He didn't speak to me for three days afterwards. Said that there had to have been a better way of dealing with the 'problem'."

"Well the rat did end up as flat as a pancake when you hit your brother's back with a shovel. Rat guts and inwards plastered all over him…it wasn't pretty was it Sammy?"

He expected some come back from Sam at the chance of having some fun at his brother's expense but instead all he heard was the hiss of pain as it escaped and he stopped his ministration pulling the towel away to see a smudge of red mottling the fabric. "Sammy you're bleeding."

Frowning at the information Sam snaked up trembling fingers to the cut in his scalp before pulling them away stained crimson, "I busted it again. "

Sam held out his red-coated fingers to show just how much they were shaking as if that told the Pastor everything. "See - they wouldn't work properly to do stitches."

Without waiting for permission Jim pulled back Sam's drying bangs and winced at seeing the deep gash in the hairline and the large purpling bruise on his forehead. "When did this happen? Why didn't you get your dad or Josh to fix it?"

With a smidge of indignation to his voice Sam drew back, "I fixed it. If hadn't been for the stupid rain it would be fine."

"No son, this is not fine at all." Pressing the towel over the wound to staunch the flow of slowly dripping blood he pulled up Sam's hand to keep it in place. "I'm going to ask again and this time I want a proper answer. Just when did this happen? The wound looks like it should been stitched days ago."

Pouting his annoyance at the questions Sam shrugged before answering with a hoarse voice thickening with emotion, "There was no one here to do it when it happened. I thought I got it all sorted."

Drawing in a calming breath to suppress the fear churning in his stomach Jim turned Sam's face up to his, eyes mirroring his concern, "Sam how did this happen?"

"Smacked it into a windscreen is all," whispered back Sam flinching when he heard the pastor suck in a breath of alarm.

"A windscreen?" Sam's reaction to being in his car only minutes earlier hit home and Pastor looked appalled at him, "You had a crash didn't you. When Samuel?"

Eyes filling with tears Sam shook his head afraid to let the truth be known again, "I don't wanna tell you. You'll get cross with me too."

Jim got no further in his questioning as the front door slammed open and John's deep voice boomed out, "Sam!"

The youngest Winchester physically shot up straight in fear at hearing his father's voice and Jim kept a hand on his shoulder in support. "Don't you worry Sam, it will be okay."

John tore into the kitchen coming to an abrupt halt on seeing the bloodied towel wrapped across his son's head. "Shit, what the hell happened?"

Wide-eyed Sam looked at he pastor and heard him speak for him, "Seems your boy hit a windscreen a while back, badly enough to need stitches."

Under his scraggy five day old beard John's face turned chalk white as Jim peeled back the towel and showed him the wound deep in his hairline. "Jesus boy, why on earth didn't you say something this morning?"

"Rule number one remember?" murmured Sam turning his head away from his father's searing gaze, hating to seem so weak yet again.

John rocked on his heels at his words appalled that his boy could think he wouldn't care and the shock made his voice sound harsh, "You damn well got hurt you idiot, that means more than some stupid coffee. What were you thinking?"

On hearing John's gut felt reaction Jim couldn't contain himself any longer and defensively stood in front of him and his son, "I may not know all the facts yet but it seems that your youngest is thinking that you hate him. That your ashamed of him or some nonsense like that."

When John went to protest he put up a hand to stop him, "No it doesn't really matter now does it - on whose right or wrong here. All I know is that this boy of yours is a mess and you'll be lucky if he doesn't come down with bloody pneumonia or worse. Deal with that first then start defending yourself to me."

Joshua who had thought it wise to stand in the quick exit of the kitchen doorway sucked in his alarm at the pastor's harsh words but secretly felt some relief that Jim with all his authority and years of experience was keeping things under his control. And maybe getting John sorted out in the process. If anyone could make the stubborn man see sense it was Murphy.

"Sammy?" John whispered guiltily moving around his old friend to notice for the first time just how unwell his youngest boy looked.

Sinking down on his knees he ignored Sam's reaction as he drew back at his approach and purposely cupped his chin gently, turning his face up to him. He was met by dull eyes sunken into their sockets and the forced bright rosy glow of fever flush on his cheeks.

Noting his unnatural warmth John looked over his son carefully and shook his head before rubbing a comforting hand over his shoulder, "Ah son what a mess we made of things, eh? You know Dean will blow a gasket if he comes back and your not one hundred percent fighting fit."

When Sam just blinked slowly back at him he stood up, "Come on son we need to get your temperature down and this cut stitched up before tucking you up in bed."

Not getting the expected reaction of anger from his dad at having screwed things up again Sam sucked in a confused breath wondering when it was going to explode out of him.

Not trusting this gentler visage in front of him to remain he threw a look over at Jim voicing his apprehension, "Pastor… I don't want Dean to get mad at me too but he will cos' I promised I wouldn't screw up with dad and I did. I mustn't be sick now or he'll know won't he?"

John flinched at the words, knowing that his son in his fever was looking to his old friend for support rather than himself.

Throwing John a look of sympathy Jim shook his head, "No Samuel you're not letting anyone down my lad, least of all your brother. Listen to your father and let him make you better now."

Glad of the chance to redeem himself with Jim's soft words John crouched back down trying to make his son feel comfortable again in his presence. "Sammy stop worrying kiddo, things will be alright. I promise."

"You promise?" asked Sam looking suddenly all of twelve and frighteningly innocent as he stared back at his dad with hope in his eyes.

Swallowing back a small choking sob John nodded and pulled his son's head to his shoulder cradling the nape of his neck with a reassuring hand as he whispered on the crown of his head, "I promise Sammy, everything really will be fine."

"I'm sorry dad…sorry I let you down. Sorry I said all that stuff…" snuffled back Sam as he leant fully into his father's touch. A touch he had been desperate for ever since Burnett fingers had left their mark.

Drawing in a steadying breath John pressed him closer to him despite the wound to his head, needing the comfort of his youngest against him to offset the pain pinging in his chest at his failings, "No baby boy, don't you say that. I said things I'm not exactly proud off. This was never your fault son, never yours."

Wanting answers but having the patience to wait for the right time to ask Jim offered up, "I'm going to get my med kit and rustle up some warm clothes for the boy. He needs to get that fever down John. You got Tylenol right?"

When he got a half nod from John he left passing Joshua in the doorway with a dark glare. "You better come with me and start filling me in on what exactly went on here. You were supposed to make sure the boy was safe you idiot."

Feeling like a chastened schoolboy Joshua clamped his mouth shut into a tight line and meekly raced after the furious pastor whose long stride took him out of the car and back to his car.

On hearing the two men leave John sucked in a desperate breath. His boy still trembled in his arms and he realised that could be in part to the fact that he hadn't taken off his own wet jacket. Gently pushing Sam back he shrugged out of his heavy jacket and assessed his boy again not liking what he saw.

Anger re-ignited his inner core as he realised that he had been failing his youngest again with a less than basic approach to parenting. The light spotting of sweat on his pale skin and the way his whole body trembled with fever were something he should have spotted straight away on his return and it should never have been left for Jim to point it out.

Kicking back into full parental mode he warned, "Sammy, you need to strip off out of these wet clothes. You'll never get warmed up with them on."

Lifting his head up Sam threw a querying look at his father, "All of them?"

"Just down to your boxers son. You want me to help you?"

When Sam shook his head he couldn't help but smile at his defiance, guessing that it was a combination of teenage mortification and pride that kept him at bay.

Fighting the temptation to step in he watched Sam stand up shakily up as he shrugged his feet out of his sneakers kicking them to the far side of the room and then pulled off his soaked jeans before hastily wrapping the blanket around his exposed lower half.

As if thinking the job was done Sam sat back down again and John frowned. "Your top too. It's soaked through."

Nodding his acceptance Sam went to lift the hem of his shirt then stopped abruptly, his eyes rimming with tears as he confessed, "I… I can't."

"It has to come off son," rebuked John softly, coming nearer to help whether his son wanted it or not.

Fearful eyes stopped his approach as Sam whispered out, "I can't Sir."

Thinking him embarrassed at the prospect of being semi naked John laughed softly, "Its nothing I haven't seen before kiddo. Come on arms up and I'll pull it off then you can get into a hot shower and to bed."

Pitifully Sam shook his head and admitted, "It's stuck I think."

Failing to comprehend the meaning behind his words John started to tug up the shirt from the bottom of the hem when Sam whimpered in pain, "Please no dad. It hurts. My back…"

Letting go of the shirt John gingerly pulled Sam to his chest and looked over his shoulder to inspect back of the shirt eyes going wide on noticing a darker stain caused by more than just water in the hollow centre of his son's back.

Placing a gentle hand over the mark he could feel the unnatural heat coming from the site. "What happened here Sam?"

"I sort of hit a tree. Now it's a little sore is all."

Groaning out loud at his boy's brief admission John felt tears readying to fall. He had presumed his boy had walked away unscathed after his encounter with that pervert Burnett and now could no longer deny the physical cost or the emotional damage done, "That bastard did this, right son?"

"I didn't mean to let him dad. I didn't," sobbed back Sam as suddenly his ability to stay stoic and strong folded. "I tried to stop him. But he just picked me up and tossed me like I was nothing. Just nothing."

"Oh God I should have been here to stop this," confessed John as he watched his boy berate himself for mistakes that he as his father should have been able to prevent and not the other way round.

There was a long moment when John just held on to his son but then the practical side of his nature took over. "Okay Sam," he whispered as calmly as he could, "I need to look at this son."

Hesitantly he turned his son around and then slowly peeled back the shirt away lifting it higher off his back inch by inch till he couldn't help but gasp out loud at the sight that met his eyes.

Most of the flesh was a myriad of bruises, but more shocking was the festering wound in the small of his back just below the shoulder blades. Clearly infected it was beyond the ability of just a couple of Tylenol to fix. "This needs cleaning and dressing son."

"I tried to sort it out sir, I did," whispered back Sam unable to keep back a whimper as his dad's fingers traced over the edges of the wound.

Joshua who had returned with Jim's medikit in his hands gasped out loud at the sight that greeted him, "Of fucking hell. I didn't know, he didn't tell me John."

Biting back his need to scream his rage at the thought of his son being hurt like this John instead turned his head round to Joshua and asked hoarsely, "Just do me one thing here Josh, go get your doctor friend up here double speed. I want my boy checked out properly."

Joshua nodded sourly all to aware of John's unspoken thoughts that his boy needed to be professionally examined for something even more disturbing than an infected wound. Burnett's hands might have left their mark on Sam in ways he just didn't want to think about, "I'll be twenty minutes max Johnny."

Joshua barrelled past Jim without a word in his haste to get away from his own mistakes. Jim went to reproach him when he too saw the damage to Sam's back and his mouth went dry. "Oh my lord."

Sam suddenly aware of the scrutiny he was under tried to pull his shirt back down but his dad's hand gently tugged his fingers away, "No Sammy. This needs to be cleaned up."

"I'm sorry dad. I screwed up after I promised him I wouldn't."

"Sam this wasn't your fault."

"Yes, yes it is. I told him I wouldn't mess up things with him away. Please don't tell him, please," begged Sam.

Frowning John voice trembled at his son's words. "Tell who Sammy?"

"Dean." Fat easy tears fell freely now as Sam's deepest fears escaped, "Please don't let him hate me too. I'll do everything you ask. I'll finish the chores and will be two hundred percent more like him."

John watched flabbergasted as Sam continued to sob brokenly in front of him. He could barely remember the last time he's witnessed his youngest cry and only the memory of a small ten year old boy came to mind, not his wonderfully tall independent fifteen year old boy in front of him now.

Putting a firm hand on his shoulder he said firmly, "Son I want you to calm down, this is not doing you any good."

Snuffling Sam squirmed out of his grip to reach frenziedly under the table to heft the large bag of weapons into his dad's lap.

Grunting under the weight John tried to reach out and stop the frantic display but Sam had other ideas and danced away. "Check them all dad. I didn't make any mistakes."

"Sam please, sit down before you fall down." Grunted back John as he dropped the weapons bag onto the table. He stilled though when his eyes caught sight of the bruises on his son's thigh, visible finger prints left by Burnett and the room spun. It was a mark no man had a right to leave on his boy.

With the adrenal rush of fear coursing through his veins Sam anxiously paced the room as he confessed feverishly, "I cleaned them all. Made sure they were just as you liked them. Got them all polished, shipshape and ready. I didn't let Burnet stop me from doing that dad. I tried to make it all better before you got back."

Touching the cut in his scalp Sam quickly added in afterthought, "And I got rid of the mess in the bathroom I made so you wouldn't get mad. No blood anywhere, right? And didn't I keep the salt lines and the place safe? So please don't tell him dad. I can't have him thinking me worthless too."

Dumbstruck John watched as his youngest son's inner thoughts spilled out and all he could say after a pregnant pause was, "Oh god Sam stop it, you need to calm down before you do even more damage to yourself."

Sam to feverish to hear his words lurched around to fiercely catch at his dad's shirt in a tight bundle and begged harder, "Please sir. I'll be good, be just like you want me to be. I'll be perfect just like Dean if you let me dad. Just don't make my brother hate me like you do."

**_TBC_**

_So I'm thinking another chapter or two with a wee epilogue as Dean gets fully back into the picture no matter how sore his as is or the timeframe waivers. Reviews, feedback and encouragement always warmly received despite my tardiness in saying my thanks. Rozzy_.


	11. Chapter 11

_Usual disclaimers apply along with any glaring typos! Sorry for the delay in posting this but my old PC died a terrible death taking the original version of this chapter down to the burning orange world of cyberspace hell. So a new PC later and me typing away like a frenzied dog and this is the end result. Long chapter so be warned as a result of manic fingers going into meltdown mode! Feedback as always warmly welcomed even if I am a slow coach in saying my thanks. Rozzy._

**Growing Pains – Chapter 11: Confessions**

It was never easy his relationship with his youngest and John would freely admit that fact to anyone that asked. Sam had a mind far too sharp to control and also a stubbornness about him that drove him crazy at times. It had left him floundering to find a middle ground to try and keep their relationship on any firm footing. But hearing his son beg him not to turn his brother against him literally took his legs away from under him.

Deep down he had always assumed that despite their differences that his son knew that he loved him. Now as he heard his boy spill out his doubts he felt what he presumed to be understood as unconditional love crumble away.

Now his baby boy thought that he hated him, and his whole body shook with disbelief as he wrapped his arms tighter around his son and whispered out his denial. "No not ever, no."

"Gonna hate me too…" whispered back Sam, his mind caught up in the imagery of his big brother's return and the furious disappointment that would go with it.

Aware that Sam needed reassurance John tried to keep his voice level, "I don't hate you son, neither will your brother. You're just confused and not thinking straight."

With his words he had hoped to lessen his son's agitation but instead he felt long slender fingers physically pinching skin under his shirt as Sam feverishly shook his head, "If I do all the chores like I should have maybe then you know just how sorry I am. I can do it, all of it, more, just give me the chance to prove myself."

As his son's breathing became choppy as his desperation grew John became afraid of the damage he was doing to himself, "No listen, you have to calm down. Right. Now."

It was an order, loud and clear, and John cringed at the sound of his own voice as he heard the deep juddering inhalation of air before Sam pushed himself away, his fingers unclenching so fast from any contact with him it was as if he had touched fire.

"Yes sir," gasped back Sam as he jack-knifed backwards finding enough strength in his legs to support himself again. Hastily he brushed away any trace of tears with the flat of his hands, gritting his teeth in horror that he had shown such fragility to a man who brooked no such weakness in his sons.

The title of 'Sir' was a sharp reminder for John of the long drive from California to Wisconsin with a son made silent by his harsh words that he had never managed to take back.

Lurching abruptly to his feet John tried to offset any further damage appealing directly to his boy, "Listen son all I want you is well again."

Sam looked at him guardedly through his stringy sweat soaked bangs before visibly stiffening as he nodded his agreement, "Can't afford to be sick. Got it sir."

John shook his head realising that his boy was hearing only the negative qualities in his voice. Taking a step forward he put out a hand to reach for him only to freeze when he saw Sam visibly recoil with a soft hiss of alarm at his approach.

Dropping his hand leadingly back to his side John fought back his own pain at his boy's rejection and couldn't keep the tremor from his voice as he admitted, "I know I've made some big mistakes here and you got hurt because of them. And believe me I get it - that if anyone has a right to hate anyone right now its you, but I am still your father and all I want to do is help you son."

When Sam just continued staring at him glassy eyed John added weakly rubbing a tired hand over his mouth. "You know your brother is going to want to kick my butt when he gets back for letting this happen."

Sam's eyes widened in alarm at the reminder of Dean coming back to find out what had happened and his own self-loathing bubbled back to the surface, "Oh god see, that's what I mean. I should have kept my big mouth shut and then no one would be upset."

Shaking his head in disagreement John quickly answered knowing that it was more than just the fever twisting his son's thoughts, "You shouldn't think like that. You got hurt and needed help and the only stupid thing you did was try and keep quiet about it."

Fisting his long fingers threw his hair Sam shook his head, "Stupid, yeah that's right and Dean will think that too, that I let him down when I promised I wouldn't."

Realising that he had to give his distraught boy what he needed to hear John quickly acquiesced, "Sam listen up, if you really don't want me to tell your brother then I won't. I'll leave that to you when you're good and ready. Okay son?"

He awaited a response but Sam just stared blankly back at him and he wondered just how much his boy was able to take onboard and process as he swayed slightly before him once more.

Daring once more to reach out a hand he brushed the sweat drenched bangs from his boy's face and couldn't stop his top lip from curling as he caught sight of a fresh trail of crimson running down along his hairline. "Anything you want Sam - just let me help get you well again."

"You really would do that? You mean not ever having to tell him if I don't want to?" queried Sam his confused eyes locked on his dad's face searching out the truth behind his words.

Brushing the blood away with his thumb John nodded his agreement as he leant in to absorb the heat from his child desperate to keep him calm and stop his temperature from rising further, "With your brother gone I should have been there for you, but I am here now so just tell me what you need from me to make this right?"

Sam jerked back at his words, peeling himself away from his touch, breath hitching in his chest all too aware of what his dad thought about him before leaving California, "Need? No, not supposed to… gotta be just like you, like Dean."

Swallowing back bile John's eyes glittered dangerously with unshed tears as his boy innocently spun his own words back at him. Struggling past the constriction in his throat he croaked out, "I would like to think that you would always _need_ me Sammy."

There was a pregnant pause as Sam struggled with the raw emotions rolling off his dad and his confusion rose, "But you said I'm too 'needy'. Remember…. you said it to Dean, that I wasn't worth anything because of it."

John unable to tolerate the distance between them any longer grabbed Sam up in a tight embrace his voice breaking as he admitted, "God help me if I made you feel that way. If we don't need each other then what do we have son? Its all we have."

Sensing the resistance fall away from Sam he took on his full weight as he whispered out a soft plea "Let me try and make you better son. You need to rest up, get this fever under control and may be then you'll see that things aren't so bad after all."

"Yeah tired… real tired," confessed Sam as his long rubbery legs gave up the battle to keep him supported and his forehead slumped into the dip of his dad's collarbone as all strength deserted him.

In a quick scoop John had him secure in his arms, "I got you Sammy. Lets get you to bed, eh?"

Sam nodded back up at him and John's breath hitched in his chest as he saw the trust settling back in his son's eyes. So easily regained he wondered how on earth he had dared to lose it in the first place.

Grimly he headed out of the kitchen determined to get him settled before Josh returned with his doctor friend. He stalled though when he was met by a pale faced Jim Murphy and guessed that he had heard everything. "You hear all that I take it?"

When Jim nodded with eyes suspiciously bright from his own tears he added bitterly, "Good, 'cos now you know exactly what a mess I've made of my boy."

Swiftly passing by his friend he headed for the bedroom huffing a grunt of discomfort as Sam was no lightweight kid anymore, having packed on enough muscle onto his tall frame to make him grateful that his room was only a few short strides away.

Jim silently followed after them, having as John suspected listened in to Sam's fevered fuelled pleas to his father. He had bitten his tongue enough to draw blood to keep himself silent and on the sidelines as the two Winchester's emotional defences crumbled away. Faith had bolstered his hope that this old friend would do right by his boy and remember what being his father was really all about. Now as he watched John walk by with his son in his arms he prayed that he had been right to take a step backwards like he had.

Murphy watched sadly as John carefully laid a semi conscious Sam on the bed, wrapping a sheet gently around his shivering form and without needing to be asked handed over the medikit. "Joshua should be back with the doctor soon John. Do you want to wait till then?"

Inspecting the deep laceration on his son's scalp gingerly John shook his head, "No, best get it over with. It's only going to need a couple of stitches max. It will be less traumatic if I do it rather than some stranger. Besides you and I both know its nothing compared to the mess on his back. Best let the Doc concentrate on that and other stuff…"

Jim nodded his understand and went to the kitchen to get a basin of hot water. John opened the medikit and tried to thread the needle but it took a good few attempts as the tremble in his hands betrayed how petrified he still was for his boy.

Sam's fighting to stay awake kept his eyes locked on his dad, fascinated by his stuttering movements as he struggled to thread the needle and a small smile ghosted across his face.

John caught the quick flash of dimples from his youngest and paused a little surprised to see the amusement clear on his sons' feverish face. He threw his son a weak lopsided grin and admitted, "Look at me all fingers and thumbs. Just a big clutz hey Sammy."

Sam admitted again, lucidity winning over the fever for a few minutes, "My hands kept shaking too. Must be something they put in the local water. Couldn't even get the butterfly strips to stick never mind thread a needle…"

A smile softened John's features as he looked at his boy whose head rested on his lap and he stroked a hand over his head, "Good job too Sammy or I'd hate to think of the mess you'd have made of that ginormous head of yours if you tried to stitch this up by yourself."

A big yawn escaped as Sam muttered back, "Yeah might have ended up looking like Frankenstein's monster…Dee would just love that."

John heard his son sigh, heard his breathing deepen and watched anxiously as his eyes fluttered close. Saying a small prayer of thanks he put in the first suture as deftly as he could managing to still the tremor in his hand to quickly finish up after another three stitches.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Boredom did many things to Dean Winchester and one was his ability to pick at something till he turned the smallest of cracks into the widest of craters to get at what he wanted.

For the last few hours this trait had married itself to his throbbing backside to niggle away till all his thoughts were focused on Caleb and his back history. The fact was that he had been around the man most of his life, but outside of their shared hunts what he knew about him would be half pressed to fill the back of a postcard.

Dean let his curiosity eat away at him till finally he had to say something, "So I was thinking about what you said when I rang Sam and we got into one a few nights back, about just how bad things were with you and your dad."

"Well that's a first, Dean Winchester actually thinking!" muttered back Caleb sarcastically not liking where the conversation was going.

"Jerk," spat back Dean automatically but still undeterred continued, "So like I was saying I was _thinking_ about your family and I was wondering if you were ever planning on getting things fixed with them?"

Caleb stiffened at his question but instead of answering eyed the greying skyline ahead and muttered back, "Looks like its gonna rain."

Not deflected by the change in subject Dean continued, "You ever try and see them at all. Like you could be an uncle or something dude and not know it!"

Caleb's knuckles went white at the wheel at Dean's continued probing, his mouth now a tight slash in a refusal to answer. The impala juddered slightly as he pushed it past ninety miles an hour to overtake a large truck as he tried to outrun Dean's persistent questions.

Dean didn't even flicker an eyelid as the speed increased and was necessarily thick skinned enough not to stop his digging, "Come on man. From the telling you just upped and dumped your brothers all because of some stupid dingdong with your old man."

"My old man as you put it was a first class bastard," spat back Caleb with enough venom in his words to make Dean flinch, "He ruled my family with fear and his fists. So yes I just upped and run if that's what you want to think. Personally I think at the age of sixteen it was more akin to my survival instincts kicking in."

Despite the bitterness in his friend's voice the need for the full story made Dean probe for more information and he remarked tellingly, "You've got two brothers Cal out there and I don't even know their names."

Shaking his head in irritation as Caleb remained determinedly silent Dean pushed for a reaction by adding, "Pretty cold thing to do, just cut them off like they're nothing to you, if you don't mind me saying."

Dean got his long awaited response as the gas pedal was pressed harder and the impala sped down the highway in a blur as Caleb vented his anger, "Fuck you Winchester. You know diddly frigging squat about me and my brothers."

Dean ignoring the speed the car was going, confident of Caleb's ability not to wreck his baby, confessed, "That's why I'm asking man. You were only sixteen and your brothers just let you go. If Sammy did that - well I just can't imagine my little brother being gone and out of the family. Hell he is our family."

Caleb threw him an unreadable look before his eyes visibly softened as he thought on the Winchester brothers close relationship, "Your lucky you have that with Sam. The fool kid hero worships you despite all the crap you keep on feeding him."

Uncomfortable at the reminder Dean laughed softly, "Yeah maybe, but that's only until he sees the state of my behind. Then I'm so going to get it in the neck from the little bitch."

Dean paused aware that he had been pushing too hard and tried to lighten the situation, "You know I can take a guess at your brothers names, Dumb and Dumber right? Just liked you're really named Lil' Dumbass after them."

He got a sour chuckle out of Caleb before he tiredly finally offered up, "Junior and Gil. Junior was the oldest by seven years, named after our dad as you might have guessed and Gil was 3 years my senior."

"Was?" asked Dean with a suddenly tongue suddenly too dry wishing that for once he had kept him mouth firmly zipped.

Caleb's eyes were once again fixed on the road ahead as the speed at which they had been travelling lessened before he sadly confessed, "Dad got them killed two years after I left."

"Jeez I'm sorry Cal," gasped out Dean feeling his guts twist at the news before hastily adding, "But you had a chance to make things up with them before that?"

'_Please' _begged Dean silently to himself for the man sitting besides him sake

"Yeah, sort of, but it was hard you know. I saw them a few times when the old man wasn't around but the damage was done long before I left. I don't think they had a single thought in their heads other than saying 'Yes, Sir, three bags full Sir' to dad. They forget to think for themselves and in the end that's what got them killed."

Dean shot a look at his friend and saw the pain etched into his tight features and his own heart betrayed him as he thought on his brother being gone, not liking the feeling at all, "How did it happen?"

"They took off on a hunt in the Appalachian mountains in the middle of winter, after some old spirit terrorising the woods. Like always dad did things his way and wouldn't take the advice of the locals that the weather was turning bad. No siree, he went in guns a-blazing thinking it a simple salt and burn."

Dean closed his eyes for a long second before daring to look at him again and ask, "And it wasn't I take it."

Sucking in a breath it took a moment for Caleb to admit, "Course not. It left JR and Gil bleeding out in the middle of nowhere while he continued with the hunt. For him saving face came before everything and everybody and by the time he got back hypothermia had killed them both before the blood loss could."

Trying to find a balance to the story Dean found himself defending a man he had never known, "Cal we both know how quickly things can go bad on a job. Blaming your dad like this…"

Angrily Caleb shot him a look, his voice vicious as he spat out, "Hell yes I blame him. That bastard stole my brothers from me."

Dean flinched but bit back a response knowing that Caleb needed to get this off his chest. Despite his own growing levels of physical discomfort as the wounds in his back throbbed mercilessly now he kept his mouth firmly closed.

As if sensing he was given the chance to unburden himself Caleb threw his friend a small sad smile before finally confessing, "See they wouldn't have died if he had swallowed his pride and rang Bobby, the man was only an hour away. But he didn't call him or the emergency services, no one, because then he would have had to admit that he made a mistake. And my dad didn't do 'mistakes' in any shape or form."

"One hell of a mistake to live with Caleb," agreed Dean softly before daring to ask, "Just how'd you find out about it all?"

"Singer. My dad left it to a virtual stranger at that time to bring my brothers bodies home. Dad had gone off on a bender to end all benders and didn't even turn up when we put them in the ground."

Dean was lost for words, stunned into silence as Caleb continued, "Bastard might as well have pushed my mom into the ground right after my brothers that day. Two months later her death certificate said heart failure but that man had broken her years ago. Losing JR and Gil just finished her of quicker that's all."

"I'm really sorry Caleb, I could cut out my tongue with a rusty blade for pushing like this," whispered back Dean ashen faced.

"Don't sweat it man. Its all ancient history how."

Dean threw his friend a knowing look, guessing that this wasn't quite the end of his story and asked, "But what of your dad? He ever show up to make things right with you?"

Caleb gave a soft cynical chuckle at the idea, "Yeah the bastard did turn up a few years afterwards stinking of whiskey fumes and little else. By that time Jim Murphy had me under his wing determined to sort out my little 'attitude problem'. Hell even got me to go back to school and get my diploma."

"Good old Pastor Jim," smiled back Dean with genuine fondness in his eyes for the man as he admitted, "He was always a safe harbour when we were kids."

"Yeah but that didn't sit well with my dad me staying with a man of the cloth. He turned up one night, mouth running away with, fists flying, wanting to haul my ass back under his control. Tried anyways until I pulled out a handgun and threatened to blow his skull apart."

Dean was barely able to breathe as he asked, "And did you?"

"No, but I should have maybe," confessed Caleb grimly as he kept his eyes firmly on the road ahead, "The coward got an easier ending than he deserved. Got so freaking drunk one night he smashed his car into a river and got himself drowned. Have to tell you I had me a party for a week after I heard that little snippet of news."

"Shit Cal he was still your dad," mustered back Dean in response not able to take onboard anyone hating their own father so much that they could rejoice in their death. "You must have felt something when he died."

"Yeah sure I did. I felt fucking cheated that's what. Cheated because I never got to beat the crap out of him like he did my mom, my brothers and me."

Sucking in a long breath at the memories his talk with Dean had dredged up Caleb bitterly added, "There are monsters out there that are fully human kiddo. Best you never forget that."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Joshua impatiently pushed his friend over the line of salt and into the cabin. "Come on Birdy get a move on the kid needs you."

"Will you stop your shoving Jay or so help me I'll forget I'm a pacifist and snap off parts of your outer extremities that you are sorely going to miss," snapped back Dr Hal Birdstrom with more than a hint of irritation in his raised voice.

"Bird you still pissed at me man?" queried Josh a little astonished at his friends continued recalcitrance, "I thought you would have gotten past that by now."

"You literally manhandle me out of my work place, force me into your truck and drive like the psychotic idiot that you are to the back end of beyond and have the cheek to be surprised that I may not be happy with the whole experiences. So yeah forgive me if I'm left a little shell-shocked and ever so slightly pissed off here – and no before you label it as just some little quirky adventure this is a full blown kidnapping."

Eyebrows raised Joshua stood back with a wondrous expression on his face, "Jeez Hal, that was freaking amazing. You swallow an extra set of lungs or something, cos you didn't even pause for a breath, not once then."

"Jay so help me I'm gonna remove your testes without the benefit of anaesthetic and feed them to Betsy."

"That's real low man, offering up my crown jewels to that that rat of a Chihuahua of yours!"

"You must be Joshua's friend," came the calming voice of Jim Murphy as he stepped into the two men's warring path, "Its really good of you come out like this."

Hal strangled a derisive snort at the implication that he had come along willingly as he studied the older man, "Not much choice as I see it. Seems Jay's brewed himself up a storm of trouble and needs my help to sort out one his messes as usual."

"Jeez Bird you owe me big time after all those times I saved your scrawny lily-livered ass in the past so this is payback. Just stop your bitching, it makes you sound like the whiney little jerk you are."

Slowly Hal cocked a look at the pastor as he deliberately ignored his friend's comments, "And you'd be?"

Joshua snorted out his impatience as he pushed past his friend and barked out, "Pastor Murphy meet Dr Birdstrom, mega nerd extraordinaire, a hanger on from my wasted years at UCL."

Extending a hand of greeting Jim calmly shook the doctor's hand glad at its firmness. "Joshua despite his unorthodox way of doing things is right, there is a young boy in need of your expertise."

Grumpily Joshua huffed out, "So now you've said yer howdy dos lets get Birdy here to the kid.

Keeping himself firmly rooted to the spot Hal shook his head, "Did the big idiot tell you that I'm supposed to be I supposed to be on duty tonight and that I'm liable to get my ass canned for this little disappearing act he has me doing?"

Jim tried to assess the man further, noting his slight frame, thinning hairline of mousy brown hair and non-descript face but all that blandness was negated by the sharpness of his tongue and he found himself immediately liking him. "Like I said our Joshua can be a little impatient at times."

Shrugging out of his jacket Joshua sniffed indignantly at the pastors words as he rolled up his sleeves as if readying for action. "Impatient my ass. All I want is that the kid gets better."

"As do we all," agreed Jim before he turned his attention back to the doctor, "I presume Joshua managed to tell you what has occurred?"

"Some," muttered back Hal cagily. "Teenage boy got hurt in car smash a few days back after some drunken driver tried to assault him. Though I do find it bloody incredible that you guys didn't think on taking him direct to the ER."

"You'll see why," confessed Jim as he guided the still reluctant doctor to follow him. When he pushed open the bedroom door he added. "It breaks my heart to see the boy like this. I imagine it's the combination of shock, his injuries and the weather but he's running a high fever now on top of everything else."

On hearing the door creak open John's head snaked up fully alert as Jim stepped into the room with a slight looking man at his side. Holding his half asleep son closer to him he queried, "You the doctor? Took you long enough to get here."

Birdstrom swallowed nervously under the older man's intense scrutiny and sensing his discomfort Joshua came to his rescue, "I got him here as soon as I could John. Try not to bite his head off as he's here to check Sam over, remember?"

The fire went out of John's eyes and he nodded tiredly, automatically placing a hand on his son's head to still him as muttered something into his dad's lap. "Ssshh Sammy, its okay. He's not here to hurt you."

On seeing the gentler side to the fierce looking man Hal felt a little easier. Putting down his medical bag on the foot of the bed, he muttered out an introduction, "Hal Birdstrom freshly kidnapped from County General,"

Looking at the bundled figure shivering by his side he added a little softer, "Is this my patient?"

When John mutely nodded he carefully pulled back the top blanket off and saw for himself the fever flushing Sam's cheeks and could only guess at the cause. More tellingly the soaked bangs had parted to reveal the dark bruise on his forehead and small strip of gauze turning pink in his hairline.

Not expecting his patient to look so young Hal found himself rambling, "His name is Sam, right? Fifteen years old Jay said. You know how long he's been like this?"

"I really don't know - Jim found him about an hour ago. My boy seems lucid one minute then pretty much out of it the next," admitted John. "He was up and about this morning and I didn't spot a thing wrong then. Then again I wasn't looking, lord help me."

Hal cast a look over at Joshua before he pulled the surrounding blankets away despite the boys obvious reluctance. Noticing immediately the dimpling of bruises along Sam's throat and what looked like a man's handprint vivid on his forearm he asked, "Joshua you said you were with him last night, didn't you see any of this bruising on him then?"

"No he wouldn't let me touch him…and I sure as hell didn't know about the wound on his head or his back."

"I fixed the head wound. Took just a couple of stitches," confessed John as his gaze lingered on the bloody gauze and basin with pink coloured water in it on the bedside table.

Tutting out his disbelief the doctor took stock of the situation. The boy was trembling clearly with a fever and the first thing he needed to see just how bad it was. It took him three attempts before John stepped in to calm Sam down enough for him to get a reading and when it came back nudging close to 103 degrees Hal felt his concern rising. Children even as old as Sam could spike a temperature pretty high at times but this was nudging beyond the dangerous levels.

Coughing anxiously he took Sam's pulse to find that racing too and looked at John as he asked, "So no seizures, no convulsions?"

When he was met with a mixture of shaking and nodding heads he cocked an eyebrow at the three men not quite sure who knew what, "Well that's nice and helfpul guys. So firstly we need to get his temperature lowered before he does cook his brains. We really can't afford to let it get any higher."

Noting how his breath curled into feint grey wisps every time he exhaled Hal realised he had already half an aid to get Sam cooled down, "Lets strip him down. Its cold enough in this room to freeze a polar bear so hopefully that's gonna help. If that fails puts some ice packs on the pulse points. We need to keep checking his temperature and if it goes any higher be prepared to put him in a cold bath."

"Don't want no bath," muttered back Sam wriggling in his dad's lap.

Snapping to attention at the doctors instructions John quickly pulled away the blankets that Sam had insisted on wrapping himself up in before slowly turning him on his tummy to pull off the sodden sheet now sticking to his son's damp frame.

"Sorry son," he whispered in apology as Sam whimpered at the loss of the comfort of the sheet as the cold air hit him fully, touching the wound on his back like an icy slap.

"It hurts," Sam whispered out hollowly fisting the pillow under him as John pressed a knowing kiss on top of his head.

"Whoa there, I bet it does Samuel," spat out Hal as he eyed the colourful array of bruising together with the festering wound on his back.

Slipping on a pair of latex gloves he hastily inspected the wound unable to mask his alarm wondering just what sort of men these were to let the kid suffer like this. "This happened how many nights ago? Did no one think to treat this at all?"

"We were out of town when this happened and _we_ didn't know till tonight," warned Murphy as he watched John deflate even further. "Samuel seemed intent on keeping things quiet about what had happened to him. That's why you're here Dr Birdstrom."

Maintaining as much of a professional air as he could Hal looked at the pastor and then back to the father as he forcefully gave him his opinion, "Your boy needs a hospital sir. He needs to be on intravenous broad-spectrum antibiotics to fight this infection and bring his fever under control. More importantly he needs a surgical input to have this wound debrided for it to heal."

"Dad no," whispered out Sam in alarm as he turned on his side to face the doctor with a worried frown, "Don't send me away. Gotta be here when Dean comes back."

"Shush Sammy, no one is taking you anywhere. No one will keep you from your brother. I promise."

Unable to mask his disbelief Hal threw his hands in the air, "This is insane. The boy can't be treated here. What is with you macho Hunters thinking that you're immune to the disease and frailties that the human body can be subjected to?"

Twisting away at hearing the doctor's rant a coughing spasm wracked through him before Sam managed to flick up watery eyes up at his dad and whisper out his discomfort, "Thirsty."

John nodded his understanding and lightly brushed his fingers over the now drying bangs, careful not to pull the stitches he had put in place only minutes earlier. Tossing a look at the three men he got the response he needed as Jim jumped at the chance of being of some use. "I'll get him a glass of water Johnny."

Hal watched him leave then brought his attention back to Sam, pinching a soft fold of skin on his hand and he shook his head, "He's severely dehydrated. When's the last time he ate or drank anything?" On receiving blank looks he tartly added, "Today, yesterday, when if at all?"

Again he was met with a small round of shrugs and he found himself voicing out his disgust. "Seems like you guys don't know a lot do you? I've got the distinct impression that you idiots may be able to fucking hunt to you all drop but you'd be hard pressed to organise a piss up in a brewery in the real world never mind look after a kid. Its no wonder this boy is in such a mess."

John's face soured even further but it was the small escaping giggle from Sam that suddenly broke the tension, "Piss up in a brewery dad - that's a good one. The doc sort of sounds a bit like Dean at times, all sarky like his boxers have crawled up his ass."

A deep fruity laugh met his statement as Joshua shoved playfully at his old friend shoulder, "Birdy always has been a little anal, but he does have a way with words Sammy that's for sure. Bet you he could give your brother a run for the title of motor mouth given half the chance."

Sam smiled weakly back at him before another coughing fit hijacked his attention. At that moment Jim returned with a jug of water and a glass in hand, and Hal stood up offering his advice to John as he comforted his son as the coughing died down, "Get him to drink it slowly."

The doctor then turned his attention back to his friend. Pulling him to the corner of the room he whispered loudly, "This is beyond stupid Joshua. Just what the hell do you want from me here? That boy's back is a mess and from the sound of his lungs and the fever he's spiking he's got the onset of pneumonia too. If I didn't know better, and right now I don't, this looks like neglect, plain and simple."

"Aw come on Hal you know that's not true. No one here would ever hurt that kid."

"No? Well what I do know is that he is hurt and the best place for him right now is a goddam hospital."

"You think I don't know that I screwed up, that Sam is sick because of me? That some bastard might have molested him and I wasn't here to stop it," growled out Joshua bitterly.

When Hal went to protest further Joshua stabbed an angry finger at his friend, "You know damn well what will happen if we take Sam to hospital with those marks and bruises on his body. You want me to risk that do you? Losing Sam to some fucking do-gooder whistleblower who has no idea what really happened here."

Sucking in a steadying breath Hal looked at his friend and then back to the quivering boy, torn between his friend's pleas and the needs of his patient. "We could create a cover story and try keep the authorities out of it."

"No," snapped back John his hearing sensitive enough to hear their mutterings as he guided Sam back down on the bed, "I can't risk having social services take him from me. Just do what you can here."

Hal blanched at the suggestion as his eyes flitted around the mildewed room, "I don't think I can or would risk doing anything here. Not in these conditions."

"We don't have a choice," stepped in Jim putting a firm hand on the young doctor's shoulder. "I trust you to do your best for Sam. Just tell us how we can help you here."

"Please Birdy, I know I'm asking a lot but the kid is like family to me," pleaded Joshua in tandem with Jim's forceful stare. Throwing him a cheeky grin he added, "Think of me as his personal medical insurance cover and you can hit me with the bill afterwards."

"It's going to be more than a couple of crates of beer this time," snuffled back Hal as he slowly nodded his agreement sensing it was pointless arguing any further. The young boy needed help but he knew that they were right, that the moment they stepped through the ER doors social services would be instantly alerted.

John glad of the doctor's agreement took his son's temperature again and he held his breath as the reading came down half a degree less. "It's going to be okay son. The doctor is going to make it all better."

"Dad…" whispered Sam as he struggled to stay awake, aware of only the comfort of his dad's hand on his shoulder and the promise of earlier echoing in his head, "You won't tell him will you?"

John nodded his agreement as Sam leant his head into his lap, "Whatever you want Sammy. Lets just get you better. That the best thing you can do for your brother right now."

Hal pulled out a pad from his bag and hastily scribbled out a list before shoving it into Joshua's hand. "I don't want to know how you go about it but I need what's on this list. And I need it like yesterday."

Whistling softly as his gaze travelled down the list Joshua face split into a knowing smirk, "Consider it already done dude."

"Don't you dude me! I'm up to my neck in crap here so don't you dare lead the cops back to my doorstep. You do know that you're seriously gonna get me struck off one of these days."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Caleb knew it to be a bad idea from the get go, but with Dean's endless nagging and the persistent sour taste left in his mouth after confessing all about his family the neon sign that led them to 'Crazy Freddie's Bar' just couldn't be resisted.

A few beers later the sour taste had lifted and so too had Dean's ability to sit up straight.

"Dude I told you to hold off the pain meds till later," worried back Caleb as he watched Dean smirk idiotically back at him as he pulled him up straight again in his chair. "You're going to end up disgracing yourself by puking everywhere."

"S'right it's all cool, not gonna puke anywhere. 'Sides we Winchester men don't do that sort of thing."

"No? Well I remember you chucking up a stomach full of enchiladas and cheesy jalapeno fries in New Mexico two summers back. Goddam splattered my back seats in such spectacular fashion that they had to be reupholstered. The stench was worse than when your kid brother skunked my car."

Frowning Dean leant forward and wagged an exaggerated finger at him, "You know I think that was my most singularly most disgusting night ever."

"I can remember worse I'm sorry to have to admit," smiled back Caleb ruefully. "Remember that ugly midget of a girl with the buck teeth and bald head who drank you under the table all for a bet of ten dollars. Lots and lots of vomit that night too…"

Dean straightened up abruptly as he looked at his friend intently. "You know that's why I love you dude. Your vomit-proof."

Blanching at the news Caleb's eyes darted around the bar to see who else had heard this drug and alcohol fuelled confession. "Ah man enough is enough. Lets get you tucked in for the night before you start singing Dolly Parton love songs at me or worse."

"Nah, love you dude, just like a brother," slurred back Dean patting a knowing hand on his friend's cheek and said a little to loudly for Caleb's comfort, "You're the only one I'd let touch my ass like that. Wouldn't even let Sammy touch my goods like that."

Choking on his beer Caleb determining that it was now time to get his charge out of the bar and back to the sanctuary of some faceless motel room, "That's it, time to get you back to a motel and to bed before your mouth totally runs away with you."

"Ah look at the pretty boys getting all romantic together. Can't wait to crawl into the sack together," sneered a beefy bruiser of a man sitting at the bar and near enough to them to have overheard their conversation.

Turning to his two companions he added, "It's a freaking disgrace if you ask me that perverts like them can come into a decent place like this to stink the place out."

Dean's head snapped up at the man's vicious words, his eyes narrowing in temper at the stranger's suggestion and he pointed his beer bottle at him, "Oh go screw yourself you homophobic dickhead. It's a free country and I can damn well drink where I like so stop having such a bitching fit Princess Pissy Face."

"What did you just call me?" growled out man-mountain, standing to his full height to make Caleb feel small in comparison.

"Dean!" hissed out Caleb in warning as he watched the man's drinking buddies stand up now readying for action at his side and knew he would be hard pressed to take out all three of them down if it turned into a fight, "Put a goddam sock in it."

Smirking Dean's ignored his friend's warning and slurred out his contempt on really taking a good look at the man, "Sweet Jesus I take it back about you being a princess as your momma birthed one damn ugly sonofabitch."

Clamping a hard hand on his arm Caleb tried to draw him in but Dean shrugged away from him aiming further insults to the all readying fuming bruiser of a bar hog, " Must be hard getting laid with a face as ugly as yours. Suppose if you put a paper back of over your head you might just get lucky one day."

Knocking a solid fist into the palm of his hand the man took a step forward growling out a warning, "I'm gonna knock that them pearly whites right down your pretty boy throat, then we'll see whose so goddam fucking ugly then."

"Hey, hey," growled out the bartender suddenly aware of just how nasty the situation could play itself out, "Take it outside fellas or I'll call the cops." Adding as he pushed a warning finger at the big man's shoulder, "You ain't gonna go smashing up my bar again O'Malley, ya hear me?"

Putting up a placating hand Caleb hastily stood up, dragging a giggling Dean with him hissing out a warning, "Can it you idiot."

Throwing a look at the man the bartender had called O'Malley Caleb tried to make their exit as safe as possible swallowing crow as he said, "Look no offence guys. We'll be on our way. The kid here didn't mean anything, just had a beer too many is all. No harm done, right?"

For a second Caleb thought they had made good their escape but Dean twisted his head around and threw a parting remark, "Yeah I'm sorry. Sorry that your so freaking ugly that even the local whores go hide when they see you coming."

"That's it," growled out Caleb under his breath pulling Dean in front of him, "Time to get you and your gobby little mouth the hell out of here."

He didn't get far when he felt the hairs at back of his neck bristle in alarm. Pushing Dean ahead of him he ducked low enough to miss the first punch thrown his way, and looked around just in time to see the follow up punch come towards him with enough time to block it with his forearm.

Huffing out his annoyance he offered up his own hard fist to the taller man's jaw and felt a satisfying sting on his knuckles at the man staggered back with a grunt of pain, falling into one of his drinking buddies in the process.

After that Caleb doing his best to shield Dean, who had taken one punch that had knocked him clear on his ass and it seemed that was were he was going to stay for the rest of the fight, busted his knuckles in a good old fashioned bar fight.

Caleb soon found out that his three opponents didn't want to fight fair as one goon tried to shove a broken bottle in his face. A broken wrist later and with a pair of tenderised testicles from a well placed kick the man was on the floor, hands clutching his groin as he whimpered out his discomfort.

"Stay down," he growled out in warning to the man before he threw another punch at O'Malley who fell back again screaming in pains as his broken nose gushed out a stream of red.

Battling low and dirty, not above hair pulling, Caleb grabbed at the straggly ponytail of the third goon and swung him around to slum-dunk his face onto the bar counters edge with a loud satisfying crack before he too sunk like a sack of potatoes to the floor.

A fist hit him and he fell backwards to land on a tabletop and his world went momentarily fuzzy. As O'Malley reached down for him he managed to use his long legs to kick out and hit him in the guts and he managed to roll away, shaking his head to clear the buzzing noise from his head.

On standing his mouth fell open when he heard a familiar voice singing out, like some cheerleading mantra, "Go, Cal, Go."

In disbelief he risked a glance at Dean, still sitting the floor, who gave him a quick thumbs up and whispered 'Awesome dude' back up at him with a wide grin of delight.

Caleb quickly turned back to his opponent only to see him drop boneless to the floor to join his friends as the baseball in the bartenders hand cracked against his skull.

Clearly miffed the bartender turned to Caleb and barked out, "Get you and your scrawny assed partner out of here before I call the cops. And don't ever think of ever heading back this way ever again."

"S'right, don't think we'll be going out of our way to revisit this backwater dump ever again soon anyways" slurred back Dean who was still sitting on the floor, gingerly fingering his nose for any break.

"Get him the fuck out of here," growled back the bartender shaking his head as he heard the low groans coming from the three men at his feet.

Caleb winced again at his friend's tart words but leant down a hand to pull him back on to his feet. "You up to walking out of here now dude, or you still got something else to say that's liable to get us killed?"

Hissing as his wounds pulled as he was tugged back onto his feet Dean shook his head with a rueful grin as he felt the sting worsen on the deep slash on his left butt cheek as he was helped out of the bar, "Yeah I'm good to leave now. But Caleb…"

"What?" snapped back Caleb, his senses still on full alert till he got them back to the car.

"Think your gonna have to touch up my ass all over again," smirked back Dean as his he slipped his fingers inside the back of his jeans and they came back bloodied.

Rolling his eyes in disbelief Caleb groaned out, "For the love of….you are turning into a first class major pain in my ass!"

"Um Caleb…" gulped out Dean as the fresh air fully hit him.

"Dean?" queried Caleb as he felt Dean draw to a sudden halt to see the green hue on his face and shook his head in disbelief, "Oh hell no."

The sound of vomit splattering the ground by his feet and the pungent smell made his own stomach clench in rebellion. When the last heave left Dean he side stepped past the mess before he dragged Dean back to the car, spreading a towel on the seat first before pushing none to gently inside.

"Thanks dude," grinned back a suitably chastened Dean wiping the spittle off his chin with the back of his hand as the car started up, "Just glad its you… you know…with my ass and other stuff."

"Yeah, I know you 'love me' because I'm so goddam vomit-proof," Caleb muttered under his breath as he gunned the impala out of the bar's car park. "You told the whole fucking bar just how much you loved me remember?"

Despite himself Dean started giggling again. "They thought we were a couple Cal. If Sammy ever hears about this one we are so totally screwed. He'll dine off this for a year."

"Sam's never gonna hear a thing about this, not ever, not about the bar or the fact that my fingers have ever had to touch your sorry ass," sniffed back Caleb, absently fingering his jaw that bore the knuckle marks of more than one lucky punch.

"Silence is truly golden," grunted back Dean shifting in his seat trying to get comfortable. He threw a regretful look at his friend as he confessed, "Ow…this hurts like a bitch. Must have a pulled out a few stitches."

Groaning at the implication Caleb shook his head muttering sourly, "The things I have to do for you Winchesters truly goes beyond the love of man or country at times."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Hal Birdstrom took the offered cup of coffee with a small nod of thanks to Joshua, "He's a tough kid that's for sure."

"I know. Takes after his old man. So how is he really?"

"For the next twenty four hours he needs careful monitoring. I've hooked him up with some strong antibiotics, but the wound will need redressing and lets just hope we caught the pneumonia in time to halt it in its tracks."

Joshua bit his bottom lip shaking his head before asking again, "Yeah, but really how is he Birdy?"

Hal mouthed formed a silent 'O' shape as he finally understood his friend's concern. "I checked him over and the only physical injuries are what you can see."

"So he wasn't…. he wasn't…." Joshua couldn't get the words out, his voice choking up as his tears of relief started to roll down his face.

Hal looked at his friend clearly astonished to see the tears. In all his years of knowing the man not once had he seen such a genuine display of emotions from him, having always schooled himself to keep them in check.

Understanding his friend's need to have affirmation that the boy he had supposed to been there to protect hadn't been raped Hal gave his friend a small smile of reassurance, "No Jay. Like young Sam said he fought his attacker off. All the trauma he sustained was in the crash and fighting the bastard off. Got the split knuckles to prove it too if you look close enough. Tough kid like I said."

"Thank god," whispered back Joshua finally. "And John knows, right?"

"Yeah, he stayed, wouldn't leave when I examined Samuel. I just was thankful the boy was sedated enough not to know what I was going on."

"Thank god, Hal. I really dropped the ball with this one. I don't think I could have lived with myself if Sammy had been hurt like that."

Surprised still at his friend's emotional display Hal asked, "The boy means that much too you Jay?"

Wiping at his tears with his meaty fists Joshua nodded, "Uh huh, like I said he and his brother have been like family to me. John asked me to keep him safe, to protect him from all the dark fugly monsters out there Hal and I didn't."

"Yeah but it wasn't some dark fugly monster that crawled out of the dark this time Jay, was it?"

"I know. I just thought him safe here in a small community like this. I just didn't think that a man like Burnett would be out there wanting to hurt him too."

"Well he's safe now. Sound asleep as is his dad, snoring away so loudly that I'm surprised the boy could sleep through it."

"John's asleep?" asked Joshua clearly astounded at the news.

"Collapsed is nearer to the truth I fear. The man as your friend Jim has told me has been holding his own hurts in check with a concussion and bullet wound to the arm. The moment he found out Sam was going to be okay he just curled up next to his boy, put a protective arm over him and then fell fast asleep."

**TBC **

_Again apologies this chapter was so long! Rozzy._


	12. Chapter 12

_Usual disclaimers apply again with my apologies for any stupid typos etc! Sorry it has taken me so long to get this chapter up – but the approach to Xmas has been a major RL leech. Which also means that I've not had the time to say my thanks to all those wonderful reviews left in my mailbox despite the fact they have left me grinning madly in appreciation and also in the same breath seriously humbled at your warm response to this story. Another long waffle I'm afraid. Again despite my tardiness in saying my thanks all reviews very much welcomed. _

**Growing Pains – Chapter 12: The long road home**

John's eyes snapped open as a sharp jab to his ribcage knocked the air out of him and he mumbled out his disorientation, "What the hell?"

"Sorry John," whispered Jim as he rung out a cold cloth to drape over Sam's forehead with one hand and with the other pulled a wildly thrown arm back to Sam's side. Offering up a weak smile at his clearly confused friend he admitted, "Bit of a rude awakening I'm afraid. Young Samuel here has gotten somewhat restless."

Hurriedly sitting up John's face soured in disgust on realising that he had succumbed to his own need to sleep at the expense of watching over his son. Swinging his long legs over the edge of the mattress he staggered upright, looking more than a little rumpled with his five day old stubble on his chin and his plaid shirt wrinkled up around his waist.

Assessing the situation he growled out, "Un-freaking-believable. I bloody well fell asleep didn't I?"

Ignoring his friend's apparent displeasure Jim was focused on his charge whimpering out from the foggy world of his drug induced world as he reacted instinctively to his father's sharp voice. Murmuring gently he tried to placate him, "Shush now, settle back down my lad, everything is okay."

John watched as his youngest eyes fluttered open for a fraction of a second seeming to focus on Jim before a long sigh escaped and he rolled back on to his side, his long legs curling up to his stomach as he drifted back off to an uneasy sleep.

His tongue stuck to the dry roof of his mouth and John found he couldn't offer any words of comfort to his boy, seeing only the flush of fever burning on his son's cheeks again.

As Jim fussed over Sam he threw an accusing look at the pastor and finally he loosened his tongue enough to bark out, " Why the hell did you let me sleep on like that? I could have rolled over and hurt him or worse."

"It seemed perfectly natural to me," whispered back the older hunter not wanting their voices to raise any higher and disturb Sam further, "You both needed to rest and your boy seemed quite settled with you by his side most of the time."

"Not what I'm seeing now old man, he's burning up again," grouched back John as he followed Jim's earlier motion by touching a hand to his cheek to feel the heat radiating off him.

Nodding his agreement Jim said softly, "Guess that's what woke you up, sleeping next to your own hot-water bottle eh Johnny?"

"I think it was the elbow to my gut that did that," John admitted with a tired sigh as he leant in to examine his son further and not liking what he was seeing, "He should be getting better, not worse."

"Spiked a bit of a fever an hour back but hopefully it will fall now that I've topped up his meds."

When Jim didn't get a response from John he cocked an eyebrow and looked over at his friend to see him still looking half dead to the world and offered up, "Why don't you head to your own bed for a few more hours of shuteye. I can look after Samuel for a little while longer."

Frowning John checked his watch and realised it was close to dawn and he cast a confused looked at his son, realising that he had managed to sleep most of the night away. When he saw a shiver ripple through Sam he shook his head, the need for further sleep firmly on the back burner now, "No I'm good. Did you get the doc to have a look at him again?"

"Birdy…. um, Dr Birdstrom left a while back," Jim admitted, "Got Joshua to ferry him back to the hospital, though I did hear him mutter something about getting back here at midday to check on things."

"Goddamit he should have stayed and not run out on my boy like this," growled back John his fears heightening as Sam softly moaned under his touch and his voice dropped an octave as he whispered to him, "Quiet Sammy…."

Shaking his head Jim realised that John's displeasure with Birdstrom really was a mask to cover his anxiety for his son, "Not much more for Hal to do here John. Sam's a strong lad, we just have to be patient and play the waiting game and pray he carries on fighting like the stubborn little mule he can be at times."

Sighing John turned back to his son, and pulled gingerly away the damp sheet away from his torso hoping the chill in the air would help reduce his fever again. Carefully he sat back beside Sam, resting a protective hand on his shoulder and confessed, "Its just not right having to see him like this."

"Its hard for any parent to watch their child unwell."

John nodded eyes glistening bright as he took in once again the bruising so visible on his son's body before admitting, "I just never expected him to get sick like this. I didn't see a damn thing wrong with him yesterday. Not one thing wrong at all."

"Maybe you should…" Jim snapped his jaw shut as the words slipped out not wanting to add to John's sense of guilt and shook his head in denial, deciding it best to keep his silence.

Casting a glance at the pastor sitting opposite to him John's brow furrowed into a frown and he dared to ask, "Maybe what?"

On his last reserves Jim sighed out loud at the question. The last few days had left him drained not just physically and his voice trembled as he spoke next, "Nothing John. I'm bone tired and this can wait until another day, another time."

Shaking his head John wanted an answer, "No it's not _nothing_. Its clear you've got something to say, so spit it out man."

Drawing in a long steadying breath Jim finally gave in and gave John his bitter response, "Okay - just an observation that your boy was bound to fall sick at some point given the decidedly poor living arrangements you furnished him with. Wisconsin this time of year is a world away from sunny California isn't it?"

Growling under his breath John shot him an accusing look, "You think like that idiot doctor don't you? That I somehow neglected my boy here."

Huffing out his exasperation Jim leant in and hissed out in a tight whisper, "Take a look around you Winchester and just see what _your_ boy has been struggling with here. You so blind or have you just been walking around with blinkers on when it came to what kept your son safe and well?"

As if attuned to the growing tension between the two older men Sammy started to stir again eyes fluttering open, darting around the room as if he was searching out for a much longed for face. He managed a hoarse whisper to escape before his hooded eyes closed again, "Dean. Want Dee…."

Instantly Jim leant in smoothing back a long loop of hair around the back of his ear as he whispered comforting words. The deep cadence to his voice, the almost nonsensical mutterings, had their desired affect and Sam head dropped back on the pillow and his eyes shut again, the heavy sedation once again pulling him under.

John's front teeth dug into his bottom lip as he watched how easily Sam drifted off again under his friend's ministration and felt a small sliver of jealousy run up his spine. "How long has he been asking for his brother like that?"

"On and off throughout the night, mostly after waking from a bad dream," admitted Jim placing another cold cloth on Sam's brow.

"And I just slept through it all?" John shook his head realising that yet again he was the last one his baby boy was turning to. Unable to hide the bitterness from his voice he added, "Dean should be here in a day or two."

"Good. I think Sam has missed his brother more than he'd ever admit too."

John did not respond, not trusting himself not to get into one with the clearly rankled older hunter. Biting his tongue he knew he would have to hold off his talk with the man until Sam was resting easy again but it didn't sit well with him, the way he was being so easily judged by someone he called friend.

For the next hour the room remained under an enforced silence as both men kept their own counsel, content just to watch as Sam finally fell into a drug fuelled sleep and with it the bright red flush on his cheeks lessened to just a soft blush.

As the night drew to its close Jim snuck in another temperature reading and threw up a small prayer of thanks as it showed a marked dip. Offering the reading over to John he broke their enforced silence, "I think the drug concoction Birdstrom hooked him up with is starting to take effect."

"About freaking time," whispered back John pulling a shaky hand threw his greasy locks feeling a flutter of relief in his tummy as to his eyes his youngest started to look marginally better. "Lets hope he'll sleep a good few hours more. The more rest he gets the better."

As if a reward for Jim's broad smile of heartfelt thanks the soft rays of dawn broke into the room. Taking the return of the sun as his cue for a break he got up slowly, unable to stifle a groan as his aching knees burned at the stretch. He threw John a questioning look as he loomed over Sam's bed and whispered carefully, "I need a coffee. You want one?"

Dark eyes darted back to the still form of his son and decision made John gently prised himself off the bed pulling up a light blanket to his son's chest before shaking his head, "I'll come with you. Things need to be said I'm guessing."

"Yes I suppose they really do," came back Jim Murphy's terse response.

**o0o0o0o0o**

Dean swallowed back an expletive as the last suture went into close the reopened wound before mouthing off, "God next time you take me to the E.R. where the good drugs are and where the one holding the needle and thread ain't some freaking escapee from a nut farm. I think you've been enjoying my pain way too much you little bitch."

"Me a bitch?" mocked back Caleb absorbing Dean's vitriol with his usual patience as he slyly added, "I'm not the one with his drawers around his ankles having his ass touched up. Again.

Sucking in a hiss of pain Dean twisted his head around and threw his friend a withering look, "Ever thought of joining the Peace Corp and spreading the joy of being a major jerk with the less fortunate of this world?"

Smiling tightly Caleb finished up redressing the wounds before adding his own thoughts, "The Peace Corp sounds mighty appealing right now. At least then I'll be free of your snarky comments and the sight of your sore ass."

"Give it a day or two and you'll be free to follow your liberal hearted tendencies dude," huffed back Dean. "My dad can take over the job of looking after my tenderised behind when you get me to Wisconsin."

Smiling at the idea of the two older Winchester men having to face that particular challenge Caleb sniggered openly, "Yeah I can just imagine how gentle your Pa is going to be taking out those fine stitches I've just put in. I've seen him in action, no slow gentle teasing, just a quick tug, a sharp yank…."

"Jesus, that's just too visual," groused back Dean as he studiously wrapped the sheet around his naked lower half and limped into the bathroom to get redressed. "You know if it comes to it I'll just get Sammy to do the necessary."

Caleb's eyes widened in surprise, "You promised to keep the kid out of our sorry little tale of woe. You're really not thinking of the consequences here Dean!"

"Screw the consequences. Like you said its preferable having him in the know than having my gorilla fisted dad get anywhere near my wounded pride," growled back Dean through the now closed bathroom door as he gingerly pulled on his sweatpants.

Caleb throaty chuckle met his words and Dean emerged a few seconds later from the bathroom to throw him another dirty look. "You think this at all funny, dickwad?"

Shaking his head at Dean's anger Caleb's smile just grew wider, "Boy is that kid going to have a field day when he spots the state of your ass. He said it was a Chucky, remember, but you blew his suggestion away and now you have a shredded backside to prove him right."

The bundled up sheet in Dean's hand flew through the air towards Caleb's head as the word 'Jerk' escaped but the older hunter easily batted it away. Mimicking Dean's pout with a parody of his own Caleb added, "Oh dear me poor little Deano is all cranky, up past his bedtime I'm guessing. Time for you to turn in and head off to the land of nod."

"Well screw you cos' I'm not in the least tired," growled back Dean making a grab for the TV remote but Caleb was faster and snatched it up out of his reach. With another pout Dean flopped onto his bed, his head now start to thump as the start of a hangover started to beat a tune and he muttered out defiantly, "I need a goddam beer."

Wagging a finger at him Caleb said forcibly. "Beer? Hell no. Not happening again on my watch."

"Jeez who made you ruler of the freaking universe?" snapped back Dean. His eyes felt gritty as he desperately fought off his need for sleep not wanting to prove Caleb right and he sourly added, "All I want is one lousy beer."

"Well seeing I nearly had my skull busted in two tonight because of your runaway mouth after one beer too many I think I'm entitled to say no. Those three bruisers were readying to kill us, you do know that you idiot?"

A slow wide smile spread across Dean's face as he teased back, "Dude you were awesome. My hero! If I was a girl I'd marry you for sure."

Caleb laughed openly at the idea and headed for the bathroom to wash up throwing over his shoulder a withering retort, "You wish! You're way too ugly for my tastes."

"Not what that goon O'Malley thought," smirked back Dean. "Said we looked a mighty pretty couple. Makes you wonder at times doesn't it?"

Caleb stopped short of the open doorway and threw Dean a questioning look, "You got something to tell me Winchester, because I have to say I'm suddenly feeling more than a little uncomfortable here?"

A slow deep chuckle escaped as Dean as took in Caleb's startled expression. "Oh man you should have seen the look of panic on your face then – your way to easy to reel in."

"Jerk," snapped back Caleb slamming the bathroom door with a loud thud.

Dean rolled carefully onto his side, the smile on his lips fading as Caleb disappeared from view. Reaching across he picked up his cell phone off the bedside cabinet and frowned at the lack of even a message from his dad.

Checking his watch Dean sucked in a disheartened breath guessing it was too late in the day to be ringing home just to play catch up with his dad on to find out how he had managed his problems with Sam.

Yawning despite his earlier words of defiance to Caleb he rubbed at his eyes still too wired up about how things stood with Sam and Dad to want to cave into his desire for sleep.

Shifting on the bed to ease the discomfort building on sitting in one position for to long Dean hoped that Sam had the good sense to call him if things really did get too out of hand with their old man.

Eyeing momentarily the fridge he resisted the urge to hobble over and snatch up a beer as he had to admit to himself that pain meds and alcohol were a bad mix as he still had the sour taste of bile at the back of his throat. Plus the memories of his spectacular vomit fest earlier couldn't be so easily erased.

As Dean fingered his way too silent phone his head throbbed with disquiet. It really bugged the hell out of him being out of the loop like this. Especially with his dad's earlier confession that he had gotten into one with his brother and that he had to make thing 'right' with him.

Chewing on his bottom lip Dean worried away at the thought that his dad very rarely confessed to making mistakes so it must have been one hell of a fight if it left him feeling guilty over words said.

His dad offering to make things right with Sam left him with uneasy knot in his stomach, all to aware that John Winchester had about as much finesse as a bull in a china shop when it came to dealing with anything involving his little brother.

Despite his anxiety he found himself yawning again, desperately trying to ignore the lure of sleep as his thoughts drifted back to his little brother, all too aware of just how prickly he could be at times lately but knew it hadn't been an easy time for him this past year.

Since last Christmas Sam had tuned from a short assed runt of a kid who barely reached his shoulder to spring up a whole foot to stand almost as tall as himself. But the most disturbing thing about this startling transformation was that the boy didn't seem to want to stop there. No sir, the boy was going to be a freaking giant if he carried on the way he was going.

A rueful smile ghosted across Dean's face acknowledging the fact that he was going to end up with a little brother taller than himself. "Think you've been lacing your food with Miracle Gro Sammy boy. This growing like a beanpole isn't anywhere near natural I tell you…"

The sound of Caleb's off key singing as he hit the shower brought a small smirk to Dean's face. Soon though the tuneless warbling faded out of earshot as Dean's eyelids felt incrementally heavier with each passing second till finally his head fell back onto the lumpy but scent free pillow as he succumbed to his body's need for sleep.

By the time Caleb emerged from the steam filled bathroom Dean was oblivious to the world around him, the doubled up dose of antibiotics and painkillers finally working their magic.

Shaking his head at the sight of his friend spread-eagled inelegantly across the single bed Caleb paused at seeing the phone in his hand. He knew in part Dean's bitching had been down to that lack of a phone call from his dad and his fears for his brother.

Carefully he leant over Dean and prised the phone from lax fingers and put it back on the bedside cabinet cursing out softly, "John you miserable bastard all he needed was just one lousy call and you can't even manage to do that."

Pulling the bedspread up over Dean's sprawled form he sat down on his own bed blowing out a soft breath of relief that he pushed enough happy pills into him to finally knock him out for a good night sleep. The cantankerous side of a hurting and worried Dean Winchester was sometimes really hard to live with and he could fully understand why Sam had turned out the way he had.

Clicking off the TV he crawled into his own bed desperate for a good night sleep before heading on the road again in the morning, as the sooner he deposited Dean back into the arms of his little brother the better for all their sanities he reasoned.

**o0o0o0o0o**

Sam felt it odd the way he seemed to be floating so close to waking but not able to will himself to either lift his head or open his eyes. It felt like he no longer owned his body as his limbs remained firmly at his side and not even his eyelashes wanted to flutter open at his command.

Wanting to twist his head to the sound of the voices, speaking in such low hushed tones that he was unable to make out any clear words, he was frustrated again when his body refused to respond.

After a while the voices trailed off, followed by the sound of a door shutting, and then he was left alone with only the sound of his rattled breathing and the thump of his heart beating loud in his ears for company.

Battling against the anchor of the grey inbetween world he now found himself, desperate not to fall back into the world of nightmares that he might not be able to wake himself from his panic increased and the endorphins flowed. The drug induced paralysis lifted so that finally he was able to blink his eyes to note the sunlight streaming in through the threadbare curtains with a small half sneeze of surprise. Just when had the night turned into day, and just when had he ended up in his bed again?

Wanting to sit up but lacking his body's physical co-operation Sam only managed to turn his face back to the bedroom door.

Licking his dry lips Sam thoughts felt strangely muzzy and his body felt ridiculously cold, that much was way too evident from the way he kept on shivering. Tilting his head he could see a pile of blankets at the foot of the bed and he snaked out a shaky hand to try and snatch one up but the action pulled on the scabbing wound on his back and he was forced to still as pain fired itself up along the length of his spine.

Stilling for a long minute Sam waited till the stinging sensation settled to a dull throb in the hollow of his back before trying to move again. Forgetting the need for a blanket he gingerly rolled to the edge of the bed and forced himself to a sitting position, wincing out his shock when his feet made contact with the cold wooden flooring.

Cradling his head in his hand he tried to will himself to be more alert but nothing of the last day really made any sense. The weird marriage of strange dreams and what he thought might be the events of yesterday whirled around in his head all in a jumbled semi-undecipherable mess.

All he knew to be true was that he better not be found in bed again like yesterday, with his dad bawling him out for daring to sleep the morning away and not getting over half of the chores he had been supposed to be done.

The other truth was that despite the chill in the air he was sweating up a storm, droplets of water now stinging his eyes every time he blinked. 'Must have got a cold," he told himself readying to dismiss its affects.

With a trembling hand he went to wipe away the moisture on his brow only to still when noticing the fresh scabs adorning his knuckles and an unsettling image of him swinging out and knocking Jim Murphy to the ground sprung fresh to mind. Tracing over the tender scabs with the fingers of his left hand the action was a physical reminder that at some what he thought dreams were instead truths.

Sam felt panic rise in him again at the idea he of striking his dad's oldest friend and despite the rawness of his throat he managed to whisper out, "Oh god, you never did….ah no…not Pastor Murphy…. you freaking moron."

Then the blush of embarrassment crept up his neck and flushed across his face as he remembered actually crying like a baby in front of his dad, begging him not to tell his brother about his mistakes.

The pall of shame hang over him at having lost control in front of his father like that. He hadn't dared cry in front of the man since his ninth birthday and he could only imagine what his dad would be thinking of him now. Groaning out load he gasped out, "Ah shit no … why that?"

Pockets of incomplete memories along with the cold underfoot leeched the heat from him till all he wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed and hide under a pile of blankets and sleep the morning away. But memories carried on to ping away at him, of promises made to his dad to fix all his mistakes this past week, and the need for sleep was shoved aside.

Sam knew he had brokered a compromise with his dad - that much he could remember. Now it was up to him to meet his half of deal and show him his worth. His last chance to try and be a hundred times more like Dean, to be more like the son his father wanted.

"I can show him," he stuttered out as he looked around the room for some clothes to crawl into and get the day started.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Jim felt the anger inside make him physically shake and he willed it away needing control if he was going to confront John about his major screw ups with being a father to Sam.

The fact was that his friend had many faults, had made many mistakes, but the one thing he was always sure about was his love for his children. So instead of tearing straight into him he gave him a cup of coffee and on seeing him wince on moving his shoulder dropped some painkillers onto the table.

Cradling the mug in his hands John took the offered pain meds with a soft snort, downing a couple with a large gulp of coffee. "Thanks."

Jim just nodded taking his own coffee mug to sit opposite him, enjoying the heat of the stove as it drove the chill from his bones. "Joshua said he'd fix the heating this morning. Man is a genius with a nut wrench. Sorted out my plumbing problems in the rectory after that cowboy builder ruined the pipe work last winter."

John only half listening drawled back, "Yeah I suppose the place can be a little chilly."

Jim's tgaze travelled around the tatty room and he responded pithily, "Glad that you finally noticed."

Snapping his head up John didn't even pretend this time to hide his annoyance, "There you go again, taking pot shots at me thinking this place a dump don't you? Suppose its not quite like the little palace you reside in is it?"

"You know the moment I saw this hovel I wanted Sam out of it," spat back Jim and before John could react added hotly, "I've seen you leave your boys in some pretty terrible places before but at least they were together. But this time you left Sam alone without even rudimentary heating."

"You think my boys so soft they need all mod cons?"

"Just the bloody basics John. It makes me question just were your head was at with the boy? Would you really have been too much for your ego to take to have left the boy with Aaron in California?"

John didn't answer immediately but when his did his voice took on a frighteningly chilled tone, "My head old man was at the point where I had a son who would sooner sulk than speak to me. If I left him with Aaron you really think that would have solved our communication problems? I'm his father, don't ever second guess me again on what I see best for him."

Fighting down the urge to put down his coffee mug and pop John one on the nose Jim took a long steadying breath before responding. "Really, now you want to play the 'father' card. When I saw Sam last month he looked like a half chilled popsicle and the weather hadn't even began to change like it has now. Did you ever see that as the boy's so called father?

"My boys don't buckle just because of a change in the weather," snorted back John in disbelief. "I've trained them to be tough, its what keeps them safe."

"Safe? You mean your boys are supposed to be immune to hypothermia too now?"

The anger drained from John and his voice shook as he asked, "I do my best…always with my boys. When Sam took off yesterday how was I to know that weather would turn bad like that?"

"You still don't see your burden of responsibility here, do you?"

His forehead creasing in thought John asked, "You really think me as a bad parent here don't you?"

"If the shoe fits!" Putting up a hand to stop any chance of denial Jim quickly added, "Look by my reckoning your son has been readying to get sick ever since you dragged him from California. Unfortunately that bastard Burnett just made it happen a little sooner is all."

Swallowing back the acid sting of bile John remembered the list his son had given him on his first day at school thinking at the time it would just have to wait along with other stuff he knew he might need. Since then his son had been left waiting, never once asking again for anything from him.

The truth finally hit home, that he let Burnett think his son an easy target, "Ah god I let that sick pervert hone straight in on my boy didn't I?"

"Yeah I think you did - so help you Johnny. Hell's bells anyone with half an eye would have seen just how bloody inappropriate it was for a grown man never mind a child to be walking around with just a light weight summer jacket and sneakers on this time of year."

John's face fell open at the brutal honesty of the pastor's words before he was forced to agree, "Your right, I just didn't notice and the worse thing is that Sam didn't ask."

"You really think he should have had to?" remarked Jim tartly, "No child, ever, should have to ask for a something as basic as winter clothing."

John's lips thinned as he thought on a response and he finally muttered back, "Suppose I just got so used to Dean doing this for Sammy it just didn't register anymore."

Jim scowled back at his friend, his anger growing again as he spat back, "Dean's not his father. You are. For too long you've off loaded that responsibility on that young man's shoulder."

"It worked well enough," countered John knowing that no matter what he said Jim was right, he had screwed up big time in looking after Sam.

Jim refilled his coffee mug and turned back to John unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice, "Worked as long as Dean was around to clean up your stupid mess at being a parent as I see it."

"I know, I know, I just got so used to him to do everything for the kid that I just expected Sam to pipe up if he really needed anything." Slouching in his chair John finally admitted, "I know my mistakes have cost him dearly, but it's just been so hard this last year or two to keep him on track and focused.

"Focused? Don't think the poor lad is the one who lost that ability here Johnny. Since when did you forget what being that boy's father was all about?"

The phone ringing shrilly broke their conversation and John reached across quickly for it frightened that the loud noise would wake Sam. "Yeah?" he spat out with any formal regards to a greeting.

"Yeah and a hell of a good morning to you to old man?"

"Dean?"

"Yeah remember me? I'm the son you were supposed to ring back yesterday old man."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

"Speed it up," griped Dean as the needle of the speedometer hovered past the ninety miles an hour mark.

"You seriously want me pulled over for another traffic violation? Hell if I go any faster we'll be on taking off and will be picked up on the local air traffic control radar as a UFO!"

"Ha very funny coming from the dude who drives like a shrivelled up old man. Just put your foot down and get me back to Wisconsin you little pussy," growled back Dean smacking him forcibly on the forearm.

Caleb threw him a dark look, "Just what the hell is going on with you? You're tenderised butt still hurting that much?"

"No! I just think I just gotta get back to that kid brother of mine…" muttered back Dean as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

On hearing his friend's confession Caleb's countenance softened, feeling in part the same, and he offered up, "What a pair of wusses we've both turned out to be. Sam's laid low by a stupid cold and we're left chewing our thumb nails in worry."

Shaking his head furiously Dean quickly added, "You really think that a simple little cold would keep my boy in bed?"

Smiling as Dean unguardedly let slip how he saw his brother as his own personal property Caleb confessed, "Yeah well your dad as hard as he is wouldn't lie to you Dean. The kid more than likely just picked up some virus from too much tonsil-hockey with a new girl at school or something."

Dean threw him a knowing look, "Come on you know my old man is not above stretching the truth a little bit when he needs to. Sam's been acting Mr Independence all year long and the last thing he'd admit to my dad is feeling under par with a freaking cold."

Scratching an itch on the tip of his nose Caleb shot a look a Dean and drawled out a response that he hoped with put an end to his friend's concern, "So why don't you just ring your dad and ask him point blank what's up with the kid?"

"I did, last rest stop, and he just said I was just being paranoid."

"Well maybe you are. Your still flying high Dean on that cocktail of pills you shoved down your throat this morning. When you stop tripping maybe then things will seem just a little bit more real."

"Screw you, he's my brother, or have you forgotten what that feels like?"

Dean hated himself the moment the words flew off his tongue and he saw his friends face leech of all colour. "Ah jeez Caleb I'm so sorry. I don't even know why my mouth is being such a bitch today... I…."

"Stow it Dean. I'll get you back to your _brother_ as quickly as I can."

Lowering his head Dean felt the shame eat away at him till he found the courage to confess "I'm scared Cal. Things just don't feel right despite what dad said. Sammy, with things the way with him, with dad… I shouldn't have left him alone…and now he's sick."

Caleb's shoulders slumped visibly as the anger drained from him. Moisture made his eyes sting desperate to keep his sight firmly on the road ahead and not see the pain he knew must be visible on his friend's face, "I remember what its like Dean. The fear of losing…of feeling like family slipping away."

Nudging his foot down harder on the gas pedal so that the Impala vibrated like a jet engine readying to take off he added sarcastically, "Lets just hope the Men in Black swallow our cover story of being abducted by aliens from Haight-Ashbury in the sixties after smoking too much of the hard stuff ….or you are so paying the next road or air traffic violation we get slapped on the windshield."

"It's a deal," smiled back Dean grateful at his friend's easy forgiveness and understanding.

TBC 

_As I now have an almost two week break from work I am hoping to get the final chapters out sooner rather than later. And unlike Sam I can resist the lure of the brandified Eggnog…at least until the New Year…so hopefully I'll keep my fingers typing long enough to be a little bit speedier with my updates! Rozzy. _


	13. Chapter 13

_Usual disclaimers apply! _**Happy New 2008 to ever**_**yone**. _

_Sorry for the delay in posting – blame RL and far too much champagne! Again all mistakes are mine, but more importantly I have to say my thanks to all those who have put me on alert, to all those great reviews left and all the PM that have made me put the champagne back in the fridge to finish off this chapter. Rozzy_

**Growing Pains - Chapter 13: Calm before the storm**

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Sam rubbed at his forehead as he tried to get past the strange fogginess that masked any clarity of thought. He knew he had to be sick, flu maybe, but that didn't explain why his body felt so heavy and down right difficult to coordinate. And being sick, like his dad often said, was no excuse when your last name was Winchester.

The murmur of familiar voices caught Sam's attention as he made it out of the bedroom and into the living room. The low rumble of his dad's voice drifted out from the kitchen and he found himself cringing in readiness for the big man come blasting out of the kitchen doorway to let him have it again.

With his heart beating a frantic thump, thump, thump in his chest Sam waited like a rabbit caught in a car's headlight for the inevitable tongue lashing but when after a few long seconds nothing happened the panic turned to confusion.

This didn't make sense, not at all. The man he knew as John Winchester would have dragged his sorry ass out of bed at the first light of dawn to make good his failure to do that stupid list of chores. Especially after the way he laid into yesterday for daring to sleep half the morning away.

'Not one bit of sense', thought Sam as he stood swaying in the middle of the room trying to decipher any words from the kitchen that might give him a hint to where his dad's head was at. He picked out the use of his name a few times, and then his brother's before his stomach threatened to rebel, and he didn't want to try and hear any more.

Frowning anew, his headache increasing as his thoughts swirled all over the place, all he could think was maybe this was his dad's way of testing him, to see if he was going to short-change him on his promises to get things done before Dean got back.

'Yeah, that's like the old man,' thought Sam sourly, 'He just wants to prove to Dean what a slacker I am.'

A spark of determination lit up Sam's eyes. He wasn't a quitter, no matter how much his dad liked to think he was and it was up to him now to prove that to him now.

Wiping the back of his hand over his sweat beaded top lip Sam headed on shaky legs towards the front door only to still as the voices from the kitchen started to rise incrementally as tempered flared.

"I'm sorry," he whispered out an apology afraid of what his mistakes might have done to his father's friendship with the pastor and despite the constant tremors racking his tired frame he pushed open the door and stumbled thankfully outside.

The emergence into strong sunlight stung his eyes and Sam blinked away tears feeling a tickle spasm in his throat as he drew in the frigid air into his struggling lungs.

Touched by a stiff breeze that billowed Sam's unbuttoned shirt away from his body and lifted the damp bangs off his forehead the icy touch elicited a soft sigh in appreciation. The cold he had felt on waking had been replaced with a heat that the icy air was now leeching away and it felt quite refreshing.

Letting the wooden balustrade act as a support Sam made his way to the side of the cabin but on stepping off the veranda his bare toes curled in shock on touching the near frozen ground. The rain of last night was crystallising hard on the grass, readying to ice over despite the false promise of heat from the winter sunshine.

Ignoring the crunching sounds as he made his first unsteady steps Sam soon forgot about the icy conditions as he was left chewing his bottom lip, struggling to comprehend why the simple action of navigating himself over to the woodpile was proving more than a tad difficult. The stack seemed to be taunting him, shimmering in and out of focus, and it didn't help that for every step forwards he seemed to take either a step backwards or to the side.

"Bitch," he croaked out, pointing a knowing finger at the stack, not willing to give up yet.

Proving that the name Winchester equated to stubborn Sam willed his rubbery legs into action to make that final few step forwards. As he reached his goal and eyed the green pile of wood with fresh appreciation he snorted softly, "See, not so bad."

It was the bending down that proved bad as the freshly debrided wound in the small of his back rebelled and he was brought up sharply with a gasp of surprise and pain on his lips. The world around him blurred again and he struggled to stay on his feet, wondering when that niggling pain in his back had gotten to be so overpowering.

After a series of long inhales the world tilted back on its axis and Sam hesitantly slipped long fingers around to test the wound on his back and his eyes widened in surprise at finding a dressing newly in place there.

"Huh?" he whispered out, clearly puzzled as he couldn't remember who had put it there or when. "Dad… maybe?"

Again any jumbled connection to his dad spurred Sam into action, determined to prove himself the son he demanded, and despite the pain it caused he bent over again and caught hold of some slippery bark clad logs.

They felt unnaturally heavy in his arms and he wrestled to keep a good grip on them but his determination did not waiver and slowly he made it back to the chopping block.

Dropping them at his feet he huffed away his growing fatigue managing to place a log on the block. On picking up the axe by the side of the block it felt heavy in his grip but he managed to swing it up high enough so that when fell back to the block it had enough force behind it to cleave the wood in two. The pain in the small of his back came secondary to his need to get this job done.

A soft chuckle of relief escaped at seeing the wood split apart and over the next five minutes he managed to repeat the process a few times more, but each strike came at a cost sapping him of what little residual strength he had left.

Panting heavily he was forced to take a breather as his lungs screamed their discomfort struggling to draw in enough oxygen to keep him on his feet. Finally coming to a halt Sam had to admit, "Don't feel so good..."

Admitting his fatigue Sam took that as his cue to glance back at the woodpile and was appalled to note that despite his best efforts it appeared no smaller. The heavy weight of the axe rested idly by the side of his shaking thigh and Sam pouted out his annoyance as he could swear in a blink of any eye the damn thing had grown a foot taller, and he muttered out his disbelief, "Thing's goddam alive!"

Laughing at the notion it caused a coughing fit to spasm through him and the world spun again and before he could lock his knees Sam's legs buckled so that he fell awkwardly forwards.

Lying face down there was a soft thunk as the axe sunk into the hardening earth by his side and Sam curled away from it, letting his aching lungs voice their protest as he continued to hack out a deep cough.

When the last spasm left him and he was able to breathe again Sam lifted up his aching head and he eyed the stack before him and with a sad sigh admitted, "Need a freaking chainsaw."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

John watched Murphy's stiff back as he stirred the porridge on the stove and felt his irritation growing again. The man for all his righteous indignation didn't have two boys to worry about. Faced with all that ugliness and evil out there pussyfooting around to play happy families with his boys at the cost of keeping them both alive just wasn't an option.

As he sipped his rapidly cooling coffee John was all to aware that his friend thought him on par to being the worst dad in the world, but better to be thought some cold hearted bastard and have his sons alive than some soft headed fool and his boys dead. Dean seemed to understand this, and made allowances, but Sam he guessed never would and might just end up hating him for it.

As if reading his thoughts Jim turned to face him, pulling the pan off the stove to let it cool a bit before serving up its contents, "I was thinking John…on how things are with you and the boy."

"Come on Jim, not now," pleaded John, the knots of tension since their last 'talk' having still not lifted and the last thing he wanted to do was go another round with the man.

Not so easily swayed Jim continued, "No you purposely keep Sam firmly at arms length even when it's clear you love the boy dearly."

"I love them both Jim. They're my life," answered John truthfully. The bitter taste of the coffee no longer holding any appeal and he put the mug down on the table with a loud clank.

"I'm not blind John, I can see that you're afraid of losing them… of Sammy in particular because of what happened with your wife," offered up Jim tellingly.

John blinked hard at Jim's frank words and stuttered out, "That thing took my darling Mary and I couldn't stop it. So forgive me but yeah I'll be damned if I just sit back and not have my boys prepared to face whatever comes after them."

Jim felt suddenly old at hearing John's words, at the pain behind them and added softly, "I know what losing Mary did to you and I am truly sorry. But that's the past and its your son's future I'm worried about now Johnny. Can't you see how close to breaking him you are here in trying to make him into something he's not."

Knowing what Murphy was alluding to John growled back, "I can't help it if the boy judges everything I say by his inability to be like his brother."

Grinding his teeth in annoyance Jim slapped the porridge into a bowl and shoved it rudely under John's nose. "Must be a real power-kick crushing your boys under your thumb the way you do. "

Ignoring the barb John glanced at the steaming porridge and heard his stomach rumble in anticipation as he shovelled in his first spoonful. It was actually quite good and the silence as both men ate breakfast was a welcome respite for John.

As he put his empty bowl in the sink he nodded over at Jim feeling a little less light headed and more capable to face the day, "Thanks."

When Jim just offered back a small shrug he rolled his eyes. "You still gonna play the angry card here Jim? Gotta say for a man of the cloth you're not showing a whole lot of forgiveness."

"You have to actually acknowledge your mistakes first to have them forgiven," snarled back Jim testily.

Eyes glinting with his own anger John snapped back, "Okay, you can get off your preacher's box cos' I'm not gonna make any more excuses for how I raised my boys."

Incensed Jim stood up to match John in height and anger, "Raised them? Ha! Seems to me that mantle sits firmly on your oldest son's shoulders. Lord I shudder to think what would have happened to your youngest if he hadn't had for his brother looking after him all these years."

Jim winced as he saw his words hit home and before he could soften his stance John snapped back, "Worked well enough as I see it. If Dean is the benchmark that Sam has to learn to measure things against then all the better.

"Benchmark. Is that what you call it now.? You damn well know that if you tell someone they're worthless often enough they come to believe it."

John face darkened as he answered, "The boy lives his life in a daydream of normal so I won't apologise in thinking that he needs to be more like his brother and me. He needs to learn to protect himself."

Realising he was going round in circles with the obstinate man in front of him Jim shook his head and slowly he sunk back down into his chair the fight draining out of him.

Looking up at John his voice was tinged with a measure of regret as he said softly, "You best start counting your blessings John while you can. Sammy is bright, cleverer than you and I put together I dare guess. The surprise is that despite him being so smart he still idolises your dumb-assed thick-headed self. God knows why…or for how much longer."

John didn't answer, Jim's comments biting hard, and his mind was left racing after answers to questions and suggestions that he knew that he had brought about. Sighing he finally just looked over and nodded his agreement at his old friend, admitting his faults with a tired shrug.

It was enough for Jim to have some hope and he got up to put a telling hand on his friend's shoulder. "If you want to hold on that boy of yours then let him know he has some value in your eyes."

Swallowing hard John admitted, "You think he still wants that from me after all this. After all the mistakes I made this time out."

Nodding his head in support Jim offered up, "Like I said the fool kid loves you John. You're blessed that the boy has such a forgiving soul when it comes to those he loves and like they say 'time heals most wounds'."

"Not all wounds can be healed," whispered back John his heart clenching at the memory of Mary's terrified face as she bled out, pinned to the ceiling.

Guessing where John's thought were at Jim patted his shoulder again and admitted, "No I suppose some cuts go too deep to ever heal."

Snuffling slightly John pulled a cuff over his eyes before admitting, "You know there is so much about my Mary in Sam that it hurts sometimes to see it. I know he was too young when she died to remember her but the way he does things, the way he feels things, its all Mary and it cripples me at times to have to deal with it."

Nodding his understanding Jim topped up his coffee mug before adding, "Instead of letting those feelings hollow you out John maybe you should instead find some happiness in them. Mary's baby has turned into one fine young man and I just hope you can see that before you risk losing him when he turns older."

Laughing uncomfortably at the notion John shook his head in easy denial, "Sammy will go nowhere fast as long as Dean is around to anchor him to his side."

"You say that but now but in counterbalance to what your wife gave him Sam inherited that ridiculous stubborn Winchester streak. He has as much of you in him, Lord help us all, to be as ornery and downright bull headed when push comes to shove. You keep shoving your bound to find out the hard way."

"Think that I haven't already worked that out?" confessed John, letting an awkward silence settle between the two of them, left wondering how he was supposed to teardown the barriers that now existed between him and his youngest when he could barely function at the lowest level of need for himself.

As he thought on his options a draught chilled the back of his neck and John turned his head away from the stove his face puckered up into a frown positive that all the windows were secure. If that was the case he asked himself just where in hell was that cold blast of air coming from?

His gut churning John hastily rushed to the kitchen doorway with Jim's eyes tracking after him as he asked, "What is it?"

A strangled curse escaped as John saw the front door open and before Jim could ask again what was up he rushed to Sam's bedroom only to draw to halt by the open doorway at seeing that the bed was empty and his boy was gone. Hastily he checked the bathroom and his own room but his boy still remained missing.

Trying to get his head around the fact that only half an hour back his son had been out for the count dosed up with enough medication to keep a bull elephant under John raced back to the open front door and called out anxiously, "Sammy, Sam?"

Jim had followed after him mirroring his own distress as he grumbled out, "I can't believe this Johnny. Just how in hell did he slip out from under our noses like this?"

"Welcome to my world," growled back John remembering too many times in the past when Sam had slipped away from his control, the first time being when he was only three years old when he struck out alone on a quest to get his own freckles.

As he turned right and Jim went left he offered up a small prayer that his boy hadn't the stubbornness of will to go far.

His prayer was rewarded with the sight of Sam kneeling on the ground, bare footed and with a shirt open to the elements ballooning backwards in the stiffening wind. A cry caught in his throat, a mixture of relief and panic at the condition he found his son in, and it took only a few long strides to reach his boy.

"Sammy?" John's eyebrows lifted up in surprise to see a smile ghosting on son's face as he knelt down to him as he asked, "Hey kiddo you really want to keep on scaring the crap out of me don't you?"

A flicker of recognition lit up Sam's face as he answered hoarsely, "Hey sir."

"What are you doing out here?" demanded John looking over his son for any further injury relieved to see none other than the cold leaving its mark on his shivering form.

Not processing his father's question Sam's gaze returned to the dew encrusted spiders web caught in gap between two logs in the stack before him. Enthralled at the sight a dimpled smile appeared as he admitted, "Its pretty isn't it? Like stars twinkling bright."

"Yeah, real pretty," murmured John as he turned his son's face to meet his own as he asked again, "But come on what the hell are you doing out here?"

Eyes going large Sam shook his head at the question thinking it a trick to catch him out, "You know…. chores like I promised sir."

"Ah no son, come on, you need to get back to bed," chided John gently as he drew his open shirt together as he felt him shiver beneath his touch. Then his mouth went dry at spotting the axe half sunk into the ground by his side. Flinging the axe away John spat out his terror, "Chopping wood? You crazy or what?"

Without much thought he dragged Sam back onto his feet, ignoring the sharp intake of breath the action caused, just anxious to get him back inside and safely under his care again.

Stumbling into him Sam confessed in a feint whisper, "Sorry, I tried but…think the wood pile possessed."

As he struggled to keep his boy on his feet John dared ask, "Why's that Sammy?"

Leaning his head into the warmth of his dad's flannel shirt Sam answered, "Don't matter what I did it just won't stop being there, ya know…growing bigger and bigger and bigger."

"Don't worry about that now. I'll get it sorted out." John was rewarded by a wide smile of relief from Sam and he felt his heart ache at the faith he saw reflected back to him in his son's eyes. A constant belief that he would always make things right no matter how many times he let him down.

Jim having done a circuit of the cabin saw them both standing by the woodpile and grunted out his relief. A little out of breath he raced up to John and put a supporting arm around Sam's waist. "You young man seem determined to persuade me to visit an early grave."

"All pretty…" whispered back Sam, not taking in Jim's statement as his half open eyes lingered on the crystal drops on the web.

A smile played on his lips as John realised that his son was still feeling the effects of the cocktail of drugs coursing through his body and he offered up, "He's still out of it Jim. Come on, help me get him back inside."

As he helped walked the unsteady teenager back to the cabin Jim muttered out his disconcertion "You've nothing on your feet Sam. You determined to undo all our hard work here and get double pneumonia on top of everything else?"

Giggling softly Sam this time absorbed the pastor's words and rasped out in a conspiratorial whisper, "Couldn't find my sneakers. Think the same ghost that's playing games with the wood pile must have snaked them away."

Jim cocked a look of concern over at John only to see him shake his head in denial as they reached the wooden veranda, "No ghost Sammy. You're sneakers are in the kitchen where you left them, remember?"

"No?" Blinking out his confusion Sam struggled in their grip as he was led through the front door. Nothing of last night seemed real and he wondered at the truth of his dads' words and he stared down at his bare feet and wiggled his toes, "Got 'em wet."

Jim went ahead of them racing to the kitchen for some warm towels hanging on the dryer as the sooner they got Sam sorted out and tucked back in a nice warm bed the better. Shaking his head still in disbelief that boy had so expertly snuck out on them he could just imagine what Birdstrom was going to say at their lack of diligence in looking after his young patient.

Trying to steer Sam towards the bedroom door proved impossible as Sam on remembering the discomfort of having to go out in search of coffee in wet sneakers found enough strength and determination to wriggle fully out of his grip and stumbled head first for the kitchen.

"Oh for the love of…" snapped out John as he followed after his youngest only to pull up short as he took in the reason for his son's escape. He dared a look at Jim and saw the same realisation mirrored back at him as they watched Sam gingerly bend down to pick up his still sodden sneakers and put them purposely face down on top of the stove.

Guilt and shame at away at him as he took in the importance of his son's action and the realisation hit hard that Jim had been right, that he had neglected even the basics for his boy.

"Need to dry 'em off," whispered out Sam knowingly as he stood back and nodded his head, satisfied that he had done something right this morning.

"They'll be fine now…" murmured John as he looped a strong arm around his son's waist. Brushing the damp mass of curls away from his son's eyes he leant in and whispered, "Back to bed now boy. You understand me. No more wandering off."

Frowning Sam struggled to understand what was being asked of him, his eyes heavy lidded as once again the need for sleep pulled at him, he drawled out, "But I promised to finish the list of chores. Didn't I sir?"

"Damn that stupid list son. No more nothing, not till you get better, you here me?" said John forcibly only to regret his tone as Sam shrunk away from his touch.

Sam screwed up his face in concentration as he asked his dad, "I did something wrong didn't I?" A long shuddering breath escaped as a memory resurfaced and he painfully admitted, "I told you about _him_ - Burnett. Made you real crazy mad at me."

"No Sammy I'm not mad at all. You're not well so things are just a little muddled is all. Rest up and things will be better, I promise."

A cascade of images and feelings hit Sam afresh and he looked imploringly at his dad, "But Dean is coming back and he's going to be mad too."

Cradling the back of his neck with a large hand John drew his head on to his shoulder and softly chuckled out, "Son the only one your brother is going to be mad at is me. He gonna tear wide strips of my sorry hide that's for sure when he comes back to the mess I made of things."

Appalled at the notion of his older brother wanting to either verbally or physically hurt their father Sam gasped out his horror, his voice coming out in a tight husky whisper, "No, no, not right…I'll tell him it was all my fault."

"You can tell him what you like when you're better son. Till then its back to bed and you'd better stay there this time. Your brother will be more than royally pissed if he comes back to find you missing on my watch.

On seeing some understanding on Sam's face Jim took that opportunity to drape a warm towel over Sam's damp shoulders, "Your dad's right Samuel. No more gallivanting around until the doctor passes you fit again, or so help me I'm tying you to the goddam bed posts."

"Pastor," croaked back Sam wide eyed in shock at hearing such a profanity being uttered by the man, "Did you just say 'goddam'?"

Following John's lead he walked to the other side of Sam to lead him back to bed admitting, "Oh Samuel believe me after the night you've put me through I have a litany of profanities waiting to explode out of me."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Caleb rubbed at his gritty eyes as he passed the sign for a roadside diner and determinedly kept on going. His need to stop was superseded by his desire to keep a cantankerous Dean Winchester soundly asleep. In truth the idea of having to rouse his sleeping friend and face another bitch fest held no appeal whatsoever, and it was simply easier and safer to his sanity to keep on going.

Supplanting his need for coffee and a chance to stretch his legs he instead he rolled the window a third way down and let cold air refresh his senses, the yearning for a break put firmly on hold.

With only the rumble of the impala's engine giving back constant feedback he revelled in the quiet, the music turned off the moment he heard the feint return of snoring as Dean finally gave into his need for sleep. That had been a good four hours back and the silence that followed had been well and truly golden.

As the Impala vibrated under his hand Caleb knew he could do another hundred miles or two if pushed before having to take a break. Hell he'd do a thousand without stopping if it got Dean back to his brother. The truth was that the last few days had been incredibly draining and he found himself digging into his last reserves of his patience in not wanting to either strangle his friend or just punch his lights out.

Glancing over at his slumbering friend he reached across and pulled the blanket back up over his shoulders afraid of him catching a chill as the fresh air poured in. He was rewarded with an undecipherable mumble and held his breath as Dean's head dropped further onto his shoulder before he nestled back into his seat still thankfully very much asleep.

"That's a good boy," whispered out Caleb in relief adding meaningfully, "Carry on getting your beauty sleep you ugly mouthed sonofabitch."

A half smile adorned his handsome features as he guessed that as long as the weather held he would be getting his friend back to his brother and his vocabulary-challenged father sooner rather than later. In less than a day he would be free again. And god could he do with the break from all things called Dean Winchester.

Then the first snowflake hit the windscreen and he knew instantly that he dared test the Fates and had cursed himself for daring to believe that his babysitting duties were about to come to an end.

That one snowflake soon turned into a full-blown blizzard as he was forced to hastily wind up the wind as the snow blew in. Worse though was that the visibility had dropped to all of thirty yards.

Dropping his speed a smidge to match the dangerous conditions Caleb cursed out loudly his disbelief only to cringe as a grating voice besides croaked out and asked, "What the hell dude, is that freaking snow?"

"Yeah man, it's truly snowing in my own little pocket of hell," growled back Caleb, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel unable to mask his disgust.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Wiping his greased stained hands on an old rag Joshua couldn't keep the belly laugh from escaping after listening to Jim Murphy's frank confession. "You lost Sammy? Even when he was doped up to the gills? You bad Pastor you!"

Bridling at the put down Jim huffed back, "Not at all funny Josh, I thought John was readying to have a cardiac arrest and as for my old ticker…well needless to say you can just imagine our combined panic."

"Yeah I know where you're coming from. Kid has given my heart a bit of bruising these past few days. Still what on earth made him go out like that anyways?" asked Joshua as he squirmed his large frame in the small cavity behind the cupboard that housed the boiler.

Jim sat with a collection of tools at hand should the need arise and answered truthfully, "What with the fever I guess it was some idealistic notion to get his father's approval. That young boy's head is totally screwed up when it comes to his status with his dad and brother."

Nodding his understanding having seen the way John treated his boys from first hand experience Joshua said, "The kid is smart though, Jim. He'll see his way through."

"Lets hope so," returned Jim softly before daring to ask, "So how's the repair going or do I have to fish out an extra sweater and double up on the socks again tonight?"

There was a loud clang as his wrench slipped and hit an adjoining metal pipe before Joshua grunted back, "Stupid hunk of trash should have been condemned fifty years back. Freaking amazed they've had hot water for so long."

"Well that's it," snapped back Jim, "Enough is enough. I'm grabbing that boy and booking us into the nearest hotel where at least he can have the comfort of heating, hot water and the more basic sanitary conditions."

"Hold your horses preacher man," growled back Joshua, "Didn't say I couldn't fix it did I? I'll have you sitting comfortably in nothing but your boxers given half a shake."

The next half hour was filled with enough expletives to make even a normally unshakeable man of world that Jim Murphy considered himself to be blush, but he kept his silence as Joshua worked on.

When the last expletive died down and only the sound of tuneless humming met his ears Jim dared ask, "So you've fixed it?" He got his answer as the sound of long unused pipes vibrated under the pressure of hot water racing through them once again.

"Piece of cake," came back Joshua as he reappeared with a wide grin of satisfaction plastered on his face, "Told you I could work miracles given the right tools."

"Your sainthood is a given," chortled back Jim throwing a wet cloth at his head to wipe away the grease that dappled his face "Go put them freshly revived pipes to good use and shower up before the whole house stinks of rancid oil."

Joshua fingered the radiator in the living room and a triumphant smirk lifted his features as the feint return of heat could be felt. "Now all we need now is a lick of paint and some new furnishings and this dump could turn into quite a little palace."

"You think John will stay around long enough when Dean gets back to even give it a thought?" queried Jim.

Joshua's blue eyes darkened, "I'm thinking that the next time he moves on he'd better have a decent place to leave his boys in. I wouldn't board a mangy flea bitten dog in this hole never mind a family."

"There are going to be too many 'next times' for us to keep tabs on him Joshua. Lets just hope this has been something of a wake up call for him and he learns from this experience."

"Oh yeah and pigs might fucking fly," snapped back Joshua clearly not convinced that John Winchester would ever change as he headed for the bathroom.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

The continued snow flurries had him breaking more than accelerating as visibility kept shifting making driving conditions dangerous at times. Still with a now fully awake Dean by his side Caleb wasn't in any mood to call it quits and was mentally preparing himself for the usual snark fest to kick off again.

He didn't have to wait long as Dean shifting carefully in the seat as the feint nag on his wounds made themselves known asked, "God this is a bitch, when d'ya think it'll lessen up?"

"Oh I guess, when it does!" answered Caleb sarcastically through clenched teeth.

Sensing the tension in his friend Dean dared threw him a teasing glance, "Come on dude lighten up, it's not the end of the world is it? A few little drops of snow and you go all pouty and girly on me."

"Wont be so funny if I slam into the rear end of a truck at eighty miles an hour," groused back Caleb all too aware of what strength it took just to keep the steering wheel under his control as the roads continued to ice up and the tires thought for purchase.

Eyes drifting over to the speedometer Dean nodded his understanding, "Knock it back a notch then. I want to get back to my brother in one piece along with the impala if you get my drift."

Surprised at his even tone Caleb shrugged but lessened the pressure on the gas pedal. Sighing he confessed, "We need to find the next exit sign as your baby needs to gas up and I need a rest stop."

"Okay – I could do with a bladder break myself," grinned back Dean adding, "And something to fill the hole in my belly."

"Yeah I could do with a coffee myself," confessed Caleb, the need of before resurfacing with a vengeance.

There was a pregnant pause as the thrum of the engine laboured to break the silence between the two men and apprehensively Dean found himself asking, "You tired? Want to rest up till the snow clears?"

"Nah dude. We keep on going unless we're forced to stop," grunted back Caleb eyes narrowing as he tried to gauge the road ahead as it tapered into a bend. Pulling the impala around the tight corner he visibly relaxed as the road ahead became clearer as the snowfall seemed to have lessened.

A wide smile was his reward as Dean nodded his agreement before he asked, "You think its snowing in Wisconsin too?"

"Ring and find out. If the roads are really bad up ahead you might want Joshua to meet us half way. That new ultra macho 4 x 4 of his might be able to get through better than the impala maybe."

"Don't listen to him baby, I'm not leaving you behind, ever," gasped out Dean in mock outrage as he patted the dashboard, "The guy's a cretin, has no appreciation for a classical beauty like yourself."

Chuckling despite himself Caleb tuned out Dean as he made his phone call home concentrating instead on overtaking a convoy of trucks slowly creeping down the freeway. The drivers annoyance were made vocal with a series of loud horn blasts as he passed each of them with a knowing smirk as the impala pulled away in front of them.

When the phone clicked shut he turned his attention back to his friend with a raised eyebrow in question and Dean offer up, "That was Joshua. He said it was cold enough to freeze the balls of a brass monkey but no snow yet. We may yet get lucky."

Nodding his relief Caleb then dared ask, "And Sam? How's he doing?"

"Funny thing is that he sounded as a cagey as dad. Just said the kid has a cold." Dean's eyes hardened as he added, "I'm telling you something is up Cal. I'm being deliberately stone walled here."

"So then the sooner we get back the better," offered up Caleb, "We fuel up at the next stop and then head back on the road if you're up to it man."

Dean scoffed at the suggestion that they might need to rest up for him, "I'm doing just fine. After our next stop we just keep the impala on the road dude and don't stop till we see the sign for sunny Burdette, Wisconsin."

"Is that the royal 'we' Dean? Cos as I see it I'm the one chauffeuring your sorry ass all the way back to Wisconsin."

"And I love you dearly for it my dear boy."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Hal Birdstrom felt the heat effusing the room as he finished up his examination and guessed that Joshua had made good his threat to get the heating sorted out. Pulling the sheet back over Sam who was already starting to fall back to sleep he gave him another assessing look before he threw him a wan smile up at his dad. "I've given him another shot. Hopefully this time he won't take to wandering off."

John's face went grey at the reminder, "I don't think he knew what he was doing. We'll make sure someone is with all the time from now on."

Hal quickly stood up nodding his approval, "Well despite his little escapee act he seems no worse. You have one hell of a tough kid Mr Winchester that's for sure."

"So he's doing better?" John dared to ask, watching his boy fall back to sleep with an ease that had been missing in the early hours of the morning. "I just thought…well Jim mentioned the threat of pneumonia on top of everything else."

Hal knew that John wanted to hear good news but he wasn't prepared to lie, "Just like last night Sam has a severe chest infection, more than likely a case of pneumonia, but on the plus side he is normally a healthy kid and the course of antibiotics I have him on should sort it out."

Running shaky fingers through his lank hair John asked, "What about his fever? It keeps on spiking up and down. And he still seems disorientated each time he's awake. Is that normal?"

"Its to be expected. Pneumonia or an infection like Sam is fighting can cause quite a high fever, especially in children." Hal paused at seeing John's eyes still locked on his son and he added a little gentler, "Just be here when he wakes, and if at all possible get some fluids into him. Time and some TLC is what the boy needs now."

"TLC?" answered John with a shaky breath, "Yeah, I guess I can do that."

Hal threw him a surprised look at hearing the doubt in the man's voice, "You know its not too late to have him admitted at County. I can fudge red tape with the best of them now that he's past crisis point."

Appalled at the idea John shook his head vehemently, "No like you said time is what he needs now. Besides his brother is coming back. He has to be here for that."

Sitting back beside his son he stroked back his bang and leant into whisper, "Right Sammy you hear that, gotta be okay for when Dean gets back kiddo."

Sam eyes slithered open to stare at his dad before turned his head to the window, and he whispered questioningly, "Dean's brought the snow with him?"

John followed his line of sight and frowned, the glass only edged with frost and the world outside was still clear. "No snow and Dean's not here yet Sammy. Why don't you close your eyes and rest up, okay?"

For the first time in age with out any argument or the need to question why Sam did as he was ordered and promptly fell back to sleep.

John sat it in the chair besides him, feeling almost as tired as the boy he watched over. He heard the doctor packing up and threw him a thankful look as he went to leave. "I know I didn't say this earlier but I am grateful for all you've done for my boy. If there is anything I can do to repay you…"

Holding out a hand Hal shook his head, "Don't worry John, got that covered with Jay. Man doesn't realise that the next holiday I take is in Mexico and he's footing the bill."

Laughing softly John remarked, "Should have sent Dean to medical school if that's the going rate for house calls."

"Believe me when I say this house call or two as you put it are just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to collecting payback from Jay. That dude has been a major pain in my gluteus maximus' since college."

Snickering softly John stirred it up by adding, "That's not gonna the hurt the trust fund his grandfather left him with, why don't you aim for the Caribbean or the Bahamas?"

Smiling broadly Hal nodded his head enthusiastically at the suggestion, "Yeah I like your thinking Winchester. Mexico just lost it appeal!"

John went to answer when his eyes caught the soft flurry of snow outside the window and he whispered as he turned back to look at his son, "Well I'll be damned…."

Hal slipped out of the room leaving the father to watch over his son as the world through the window was slowly being carpeted in snow. As he shut the door behind him he came to an abrupt halt at being met by the sight of a near naked Joshua with just a small towel wrapped around his waist to spare all of them an eyeful.

The steam escaping from the open bathroom door fogged up his glasses and Hal muttered under his breath, "Always such a show off Jay. Should have been a male stripper they way you prance around naked all the time."

A smirk lifted his features as he answered, "I can't help it if I've been blessed with this damn fine manly figure and the goods the ladies just die to get their hands on dude!"

"Ladies? That's what your calling them two-bit hookers you shack up with now?"

Puffing out his chest to tower over his friend, Joshua teased back, "My, my, what bitterness spews from your mouth my short-assed pigeon-chested geek of a friend."

Rolling his eyes Hal wagged a finger at his friend as he walked by, "Just get dressed and run me home before we get snowed in. I need to get some shuteye before I start the next shift you idiot."

"It's snowing… oh man…." Like a little kid Joshua raced to the living room window to watch the world turn fuzzy white.

Hal watched his friend with a tired smile before hauling his attention back to him, "Get dressed you freak of nature. You can dream of building a snow fort later you big lummox."

Joshua blushed slightly and grabbed up his bag off the sofa and before Hal could even think of looking away dropped the towel and pulled on a fresh pair of jeans.

Shielding his eyes Hal grumbled out, "God that was the last thing I need to see today or know."

"Yeah what's that, "came back Joshua's muffled voice as he pulled a fresh sweatshirt over his head.

"Your whiter than white butt and the fact that you're going commando."

"Nothing you ain't seen before compadre." Josh looked at his friend as he sat down to put on some socks and dared to ask, "So the kid will be okay?"

"Given time, like I told his dad, he should be. Might want to consider counselling after all he's gone through though." Hal stopped realising the absurdity of the suggestion he was making. These men were hunters for christsake and counselling was an alien concept for them, "Ah forget that I just said that. Poor kid will struggle through I guess."

Letting out a hefty sigh Josh nodded his thanks at his friend. "That's a relief as I sort of told his brother that he was okay when he rang earlier."

"Well aren't you the lucky one Jay having me around to fix your messes." Hal smirked back and then bent down to whisper, "Now that little question of paying me for my services needs to be addressed."

"Oh Birdy come on, you weren't really serious about that, were you?" whined Josh as he pulled on his boots.

"Deadly serious," purred back Hal Birdstrom as his thoughts lingered on the crystal blue waters of the Caribbean and the miles of golden beaches.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Screwing up the paper with the list of instructions on how to get to the cabin into a small ball, Dean felt his relief wash over him. After an all day driving marathon from Caleb had beaten the odds and gotten him back to his family, even it was now two in the morning.

The snow had worked its magic blanketing the shabby building in pristine white, hiding all its faults, giving it a false appeal and Dean murmured his disbelief, "God it looks like something off a freaking chocolate box. Think I wanna puke."

Caleb too weary to comment merely switched off the engine and the area fell back into darkness, the only source of light coming from one window by the front door.

Without thought Dean opened the door and despite the pain in his aching muscles and wound sites he jumped out, only to sink past his ankles in the powdery stuff. He ignored the chilly embrace as it worked under his jeans to touch bare skin and he raced across the slippery surface up to the cabin.

Caleb followed after him, head hung low as he fought off another long yawn. By the time he had caught up with Dean the front door had opened and a haggard looking Jim Murphy was there to greet them.

"Boys hurry inside. Don't want the heat to escape."

Dean rushed past the pastor grumbling, "Good to see you too sir."

Caleb threw Murphy a weak smile and his eyes widened in surprise on taking on board the less than picture perfect insides. "Hey Jim."

Throwing Caleb an affectionate nod of the head Jim shut the door and looked over the two younger hunters and saw their exhaustion. "You both look done in," before throwing a questioning look at Caleb asked, "You really didn't stop did you?"

Dean answered curtly, "No. Where's my brother, where's Sammy?"

"Sleeping Dean. As should both you boys be by the looks of things."

"And my dad?"

"He's with your brother."

Dean's eyebrows shot up in surprise then the sour taste in his mouth returned. Guessing at the reason why his dad would be with his brother and it wasn't good, "Sonofabitch….the bastard lied to me."

"Dean, please, calm down," begged Murphy seeing the cold glint of fury in the oldest Winchester boy eyes with alarm.

Ignoring the comment Dean walked away heading off in search of his brother. Caleb went to follow but a restraining hand on his forearm pulled him to a stop. "No lad, this is best left to John to sort out with Dean."

Caleb shrugged out of his grip and glared at the older man, "Just what the hell has been going on here. What's really wrong with Sam?"

"It's a long story so best you come into the kitchen before you fall down and I'll try and fill you in best I can."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

As he swung the door open Dean's anger drained away at seeing his dad propped up at the front of the bed with an arm resting across his brother shoulder whose head was cradled in a pillow on his lap fast asleep.

The light from the hallway illuminated his sleeping family enough for him to see the bruises on his dad's face and the flush off pink on his brother's cheeks and he guessed that they both had been in the wars.

Judging at how deeply asleep his dad was Dean guessed at his exhaustion. The man was a perpetual neurotic light sleeper and him coming into the room like this would normally have roused him instantly alert. But there wasn't even a flicker of an eye lid as he leant into inspect them both closer.

Placing the back of his hand on his brother's flushed cheek he winced at the heat and knew this was from more than simple cold. As his brother whimpered at his touch Dean hastily pulled away and couldn't help but smile as his dad even in sleep curled a hand tighter around his brother. A protective stance of a father rather than the hunter he was so used to seeing interacting with his brother.

Torn with his desire to wake his dad up to find out what had been going on against the fact that his brother seemed to need to have this contact with his dad Dean slowly sank into the chair by the bed.

He could wait a few hours longer Dean told himself, content just to see his family seemingly whole again. The adrenal rush of earlier that had gotten him out of the car and into the cabin finally deserted him and he soon found himself resting his chin on his chest, his eyes drooping heavily with his own breathing starting to match that of his dad.

Jim Murphy found him five minutes later as sound as sleep as his brother and father and merely wrapped a blanket around him, knowing this tranquil scene belied the fact that it was well and truly the calm before the storm.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

_A.N. So hopefully another chapter, two at max to go. Be warned next chapter up Dean is not going to be happy bunny when he wakes up in the morning and has that little chat with dad!_


	14. Chapter 14

_Usual disclaimers apply and again all daft mistakes are pitifully mine. Again there are so many people to say my thanks to but RL had kept me totally swamped me and I just haven't had the time to respond in person as yet. Anyway after pulling an all-nighter and consuming too many cups of coffee this chapter, long as it is, was the end result. Feedback as always warmly welcomed. Rozzy._

**Growing Pains – Chapter 14: Donuts.**

His skin 'prickled', that's the only way he could think to describe the eerie sensation as his senses came back onto full alert. He could feel a shift in the dynamics of his surroundings and his eyes snapped open to flick quickly around the room for any signs of danger.

Blinking bleary eyed against the weak sunshine filtering in through threadbare curtains Dean noticed two things, that their dad was no longer in the room with them and that his brother's semi-lucid gaze was fixed on him.

Pushing back aside his annoyance at their dad having just upped and left without even trying to wake him Dean acknowledged his brother with a wide grin, "Hey runt long time no see."

When there was no attempt at a response Dean leant in, biting down a hiss of discomfort at the stiffness in his back, and brushed at the damp chocolate bangs to clear enough of a path to stare fully into his brother's eyes, "Cat got your tongue Emo boy?"

When he only got his brother's unfocused stare Dean found himself asking, a little unnerved by his silence, "You want me to get you something, Dad maybe?"

His reward was a barley perceptible shake of his brother's head and Dean took that as sign that whatever fog clouded his little brother's mind was starting to lift. That and the brief flash of dimples that screamed 'Sammy's back in the house' to him.

Letting his fingers linger on his brother's forehead he could feel the heat still being generated and he voiced his disquiet, "Hell of a cold you caught dude. You go running around in nothing but your boxers to impress the local girls or something?"

Sam gave another feint shake of his head and Dean answered as lightly as he could for him, "Long story I bet. But don't worry I can wait to beat the details out of you when you're up to taking a licking…"

Dean watched his brother readying to fall asleep again as his eyes started to flutter shut and he opted for action. Ignoring the sharp spike of pain as his wounds reminded him that sleeping in a hard chair had not been the wisest of choices he dropped onto the bed besides his brother, giving him a playful nudge with his knee, "Bed hogging time over dude, squidge up a bit."

Heavy lidded blue-green eyes flickered open but Dean could have sworn he saw a real smile stretch across his little brother's face, no matter how briefly, as he shuffled back to make room.

Dean stretched out, letting a deep appreciative sigh escape as the soft mattress supported his sore butt and threw a cheesy grin at Sam, "Damn, that feels good."

Trembling fingers brushed up against Dean's hand as his brother reached out for him, managing to voice out in a scratchy whisper, "Hey Dean…you came back."

"It speaks!" smirked back Dean and he found himself asking again, "You need anything Sammy? Cold meds, a shot of whisky, some local girl to practice French kissing on? Anything?"

Sam's eyes flickered lazily over to the bedside cabinet and Dean had his answer. "Thirsty, eh? Yeah by the looks of things you've been sweating up a storm."

A little surprised at just how compliant his brother was being he managed to lift him up into the crook of his arm and gently placed a glass of water to his cracked lips, "Sip it slowly dude. Don't want you puking it all up in my lap."

For his part Sam nodded his understanding and managed to swallow the first few sips with a grimace of discomfort on his face, the cool liquid stinging his raw throat. After a few more sips he shook his head too tired to do anything more than just fall back against his brother chest, taking comfort in the beat of his heartbeat thumping back at him.

Dean couldn't keep the worry from his voice as he felt Sam sag back against him, "I leave you alone for a few weeks and you end up looking like shit little brother."

"I'm sorry …got sick, let you down," came back Sam's muffled response.

Cocking an eyebrow in disbelief that his brother could think himself at fault Dean ground his teeth together fighting back his own anger, "Hey you can't exactly help it you get whammied by Mother Freaking Nature can you?

Letting his brother's words wash over him Sam stilled for a moment then tilted his head up again to search out his brother's face, " You okay Dean?"

A half laugh of disbelief met his brother's words, and Dean pointed to himself with a mocking shake of his head, "Me? I'm not the one lying in bed as sick as a dog am I kiddo?"

Sam's fingers looped around his brother's amulet, its touch a reassurance that the nightmares could now come to an end as he confessed, "Just that I had bad dreams is all."

Dean tried to keep the tremor from his voice, all to aware of the night terrors that plagued his brother at times, feeling more than a ping of guilt that he hadn't been around to put an end to them. "Jeez Sammy I thought you had grown out of those all-night scream-like-a-girl marathons!"

Sam took a long juddering breath as he tried to push the images away that had haunted him this past week and admitted, "It seemed so real, that you got hurt…there was blood…and I couldn't help you."

"Come on now you know they're just dreams Sammy. Just stupid dreams," came back Dean smoothly, ignoring the fire flaring up his back as his own body screamed out what a liar he was. "Nothing can hurt me, I'm Teflon coated remember?"

Sam looked up with a threat of a smile on his face and any lingering concerns dissipated as he accepted the lie. Dean paused for a second then decided he had waited long enough to worm the truth out of seemingly more lucid brother, "So you wanna tell me how you got so sick?"

Sam's answer was a bout of violent coughing that left him struggling just to get air into his lungs, never mind offer up any sort of explanation to his brother. As the coughing fit started to subside he felt the press of a glass against his lips again and the smooth slide of water helped to ease away the choking sensation.

Managing to throw a grateful look up at his brother Sam whispered tiredly, "Thanks Dean."

"Its okay Sam. Rest up easy now."

A slow yawn muffled his voiced as Sam admitted, "Kinda tired still."

As his little brother leant back into him Dean found himself chewing his bottom lip as fresh worry ate away at him. The memory of the athletic sun-kissed boy he had waved goodbye to in California was at odds with how he appeared now, bleached of colour and shrunken in frame.

As the seconds ticked by Dean rubbed a hard thumb over his brother's hand, wanting desperately for him to stay awake and furnish him with the truth of what had been going on with him, "Hey Sam, you still with me here? Don't go drifting off yet."

His brother's response was just to burrow his face further into his chest, muttering something unintelligible and Dean nodded his understanding, "Guess this means I'm your glorified pillow for the rest of the morning."

He shifted up taller against the headboard to try and get a little bit more comfortable only to feel his brother's bony shoulder digging into him, ''Gotta beef you up runt. Get some meat sticking to those ribs again.'

For almost an hour Dean sat propped up against the headboard but his lie of earlier came back to haunt him as the burn in his torn backside grew too painful to ignore. "Sorry kiddo, cramping up here big time. Gonna have to offload you for a while - okay?"

Dean carefully manoeuvred himself out from under his brother's unresponsive form and settled him back on the bed. When he went to tuck a pillow under his head Dean stilled, sucking in a startled breath as the sunlight revealed for the first time the dark bruising on his brother's forehead.

Pushing the heavy bangs further back to inspect the discolouration more closely his fingers brushed against the knot of stitches in his scalp and Dean spat out his alarm, "What the hell?"

Hastily he went to inspect his brother for any further damage, pulling back the top blanket and slightly damp sheet. His mouth went dry as he took in the large purpling bruises that marred Sam's throat. "A 'cold' my ass. I can't believe the old man could lie to me like this."

Swallowing down his fear Dean pulled the covers back catching sight of even more bruises and scratches on his arms and torso. "Ah shit kid, looks like something fugly used you for batting practice."

The fizz of disquiet at finding his father gone on waking now threatened to explode out as pure undiluted rage. If this was the man's idea of looking after his brother then serious words needed to be spoken with maybe a big of shoving an yelling also.

Further doubts about his dad's parenting abilities had him curse out loud, "What'd you do old man? Take my little brother on that damn demon hunt after all and end up getting him beat half to death?"

As if aware of the anger manifesting itself as almost like a physical entity Sam curled away from the source, murmuring his disquiet and trembling at the lack of warmth that had been wrapped around him only minutes earlier.

Hastily Dean responded by snatching up the bedding to cover him again only to freeze in horror at seeing the state of his baby brother's back. Stunned he sank back down on the bed, his fingers hesitantly touching the wound and he stuttered out his brother's name like soft prayer, "Ah no Sam…Sam… Sammy."

When the door creaked open Dean's head snapped up and he turned furious eyes on the approaching man. "You better start spilling preacher man. What the hell did this to my brother?"

"Dean please," pleaded Jim as he took in what had Dean so agitated, placing the small tray of medication at the foot of the bed as he added. "Stay calm."

"Calm?" spat out Dean between clenched teeth as he drew the blanket over Sam's shoulder, "It looks like something used my baby brother as a punch bag and you expect me to be freaky calm?"

"Yes I do," responded Jim gently as he eyed the clearly frightened older Winchester boy, "You kicking up a storm is not going to help your brother now is it?"

Remembering his last conversation with the Pastor before he took off for Florida Dean threw an accusing look at the older man, "You know I thought we had an understanding that Sam wasn't to be anywhere near this hunt you had going on with my old man?"

Jim shook his head in denial, "I kept to that agreement. I'm afraid Samuel encountered his own little pocket of trouble here in Baudette all by himself."

Confused Dean looked at Jim again fear making him edgy, "Exactly when did this all happen?"

Choosing his words as carefully as he could, sensing just how volatile the younger man was Jim gave up only the minimum of the truth, "A few nights back. A combination of a drunk driver and nature at its worse has done the damage you see I'm afraid."

The realisation hit him hard, that he had really close to losing his brother and the fear mutated into full on rage, "This drunken idiot have a name? An address?"

Seeing the murder in Dean's eyes Jim buckled slightly, telling more than he had intended, "Burnett. Owned the local gas station and store at the crossroads leading up to the cabin. He caught Sam walking home in a storm, then crashed the car and your brother ended up going one-on-one with the windscreen."

Voicing his disbelief Dean turned his attention back to his brother, "Nah, Sammy would never get in some drunk's car. I taught him better than that. Something doesn't add up here."

"Please don't blame the boy, he was caught between a rock and a hard place. Burnett had a mouth on him and I think our young Samuel was worried that he'd tell half of Baudette he was home alone and all the crap that would follow. He didn't know the man was drunk until it was too late."

His blood boiling Dean felt a physical need to hit something, "I'm going to kill the bastard."

Jim's fingers clenched his shoulder to restrain him, "No need son, someone already did that job for us. Hit and run. Quite a fitting ending for a very unsavoury man by all accounts."

The air escaped from Dean's lung in a long hiss, all too aware of what a restless spirit could do, "And the body. You make sure he can't come back and hurt my brother again?"

"Joshua sorted things out afterwards if you get my drift. Sam is safe from him."

Dean's found a fresh channel for his anger and he growled out the older hunter's name, "Josh huh? None of this would have happened it that idiot had kept his pants zipped up and been here to look after my brother like he was supposed to."

He glanced back at Sam and his vision swam as he took on board just how close he had come to losing him. Anger dominated his thoughts as he spun back to Jim and demanded, "Where is he?"

Jim quickly barred his way placing himself bodily in front of the door, "Hold up now Dean, remember your brother told him not to come. Joshua would have sooner cut his own throat than have any kind of harm come to Samuel. He feels guilty enough as it is."

When Dean went to push past him he refused to budge and he said tellingly, "Don't lay blame at anyone's feet till you know the full facts and the truth of what happened."

"How many different versions of the truth do you expect me to swallow? Everyone's been lying to me, hell I bet right now there's a part of you lying to me. You guys wouldn't know what the truth was if it came up and bit you on the ass."

A brief glint of anger flashed in Jim's eyes, but he managed to keep his control, "That's enough Dean. Your primary concern should be in helping your brother fight off this bout of pneumonia and not go off half cocked readying to do some bloodletting."

The truth of just how serious his brother's condition was hit him like a tonne of bricks and Dean sagged back down beside him, his hands shaking as he reached to touch his brother's hot brow again, "God I sort of guessed he was really sick, but nothing like this."

"Dean it's not as bad as it looks. Sam's fighting it hard and is making great improvements,' mustered back Jim trying to offset the damage of his blunt confession.

"Not as bad as it looks? Why the hell isn't he in a hospital getting the care that he needs?"

Placing a placating hand on the younger man's shoulder Jim could feel the panic racing through him. "If your dad had taken him to a hospital looking the way he did Child Services would have gotten involved. The risk of them taking your brother away was just to great."

Biting back the threat of tears Dean looked back at his sleeping brother, "Risk? My little brother has freaking pneumonia Jim. You don't fuck around with a thing like that."

"No you don't," agreed Jim ignoring the strong language, "Joshua's doctor friend has been here looking after Samuel and believe me he is much improved. I bet by the end of the week he'll back to his normal self and have us all run rings around him as usual."

"What tinted glasses are you looking at things through here? He looks like death warmed up as is. Hell he barely recognised me when he first woke up."

Fingering his sore jaw Murphy chuckled softly, "Ah but he did and you have to take my word that it is a great improvement, especially when some of us have the bruises to tell us otherwise. Sam believe me is getting better. Just ask your dad."

"And be fed another bucket load of lies," growled back Dean, standing stiffly to face the Pastor. "I don't think so."

"Give him a chance that's all I'm asking here. Things are not always so black and white as you might think."

Unable to keep the bitterness from spilling out Dean locked eyes with the pastor, "You don't get it do you? I had to trust that this just this once he cared enough try and act like a parent."

Guessing where his thoughts were at Jim voiced them for him, "And you feel he let you down? That John didn't meet his responsibilities. And that's why your brother is sick now."

"What do you think? Fucking bang up job he did in keeping his son safe?" Wiping away a tear Dean looked sadly back at his brother, " I can deal with him letting me down when he sees fit, but it's become a pattern with Sammy. He just keeps screwing things up with him, time and time again."

Jim felt the temptation to agree wholeheartedly with Dean but knew that it would serve no purpose other than to drive an even bigger wedge between John and his oldest, "I admit your dad has his faults but underneath that he does love you both. Its what drives him on, his love for you two boys."

Shaking his head Dean looked around the threadbare room "Quantify the term love here Pastor. You think he even noticed what a godawful shit hole he left Sammy in this time out?"

A sad smile ghosted across the Pastor's face recalling his own harsh words with John the day before, "He knows Dean. Believe me he knows."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

As Joshua pulled up outside the cabin his eyebrows lifted in surprise at seeing the impala parked up with Caleb sleeping inside it. Slowly he walked over and tapped lightly on the window startling the man awake. When the window was wound down Joshua leant in concerned at his old friend's grey appearance, "You okay Cal?"

When Caleb offered up a small shrug Joshua straightened up and walked around to the passenger side of the car squeezing himself to sit beside his old friend. "So I take it you know that happened?"

"Yeah, Jimmy filled me in the early hours of this morning though both Dean and myself had an inkling something was up with the kid." Caleb paused throwing a telling look at his fellow hunter. "Hard to take on board Sam getting hurt like that all on his own."

Joshua swallowed down his own guilt and asked, "So how did Dean take it?"

"Too early to say. The long drive back really took it out of him and he literally crashed the moment he clapped eyes on his sleeping brother."

Joshua grimaced, "So the proverbial pile of crap hasn't hit the fan yet."

"Think we would have felt the explosive concussion by now if it had." Caleb swivelled in his seat to warn his friend. "Might be wise to go south of the border and keep under Deans' radar for a while. He's gonna want to shoot something and I reckon you're going to be the first in his firing line. Either that or he'll beat the crap out of you."

Nodding his understanding Joshua's sourly agreed, "Nothing I don't deserve, just left wondering why you haven't tried to punch my lights out for dropping the ball like this with the kid?"

Caleb scrubbed a hand over his stubbled chin and admitted, "I thought on it but the truth is I'm too freaking tired…so maybe later, when I get mean drunk I'll take a swing at you then."

"Thanks for the heads up, I'll be sure to try and duck," murmured back Joshua a little uncomfortable at the frankness of Caleb's words. "So why were you sleeping in the car?"

"Well it wasn't my intention. It just felt a little stifled inside with John pacing a hole in the kitchen floor waiting for Dean to appear. Thought it best to hide out here for a while before everything goes nuclear."

Half heartedly Joshua hinted at an escape, "We could just leave them to it ya know. We have Jim still around to broker a peace agreement if things escalate to full out war between Dean and John."

"Is that a streak of yellow I see running down your spine?" laughed Caleb softly.

Joshua flashed back a weak smile, "Hell yes. I'm not setting another foot inside again till I see some sort of white flag waving in my direction."

Caleb could see despite his attempt of bravado the hollow look in his eyes, "You might be out here for a hell of long time Josh. Not like the Winchesters to forgive and forget is it?"

Caleb nudged Joshua and both heads turned the cabin as Dean passed the window en route to the kitchen, "Look like things are about to hot up. Lets just pray the big man is wearing his flak jacket."

Joshua turned to his friend and with a wicked grin offered up, "Twenty bucks on John being dug up from an icy grave next Spring if he overplays his hand with Dean."

"My twenty bucks is saying that they'd never find his remains," growled back Caleb as he watched the cabin with a flutter of apprehension in his tummy.

"Yeah guess you'd be right. Dean would double quick time salt and burn his bones." Joshua couldn't hold back a judder on pondering the possibilities, "God do you think there could be anything worse than having the seriously bad tempered spirit of John Winchester haunting us. Now that would be a nightmare made real."

"Haunt us? You I can see him wanting to come back from the grave to strangle, but not me," smirked back Caleb, "I'm the golden boy here remember?"

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

A genuine smile flickered across John's face when he turned to see his oldest standing in the kitchen doorway and he reached across to clap a hand on his shoulder in greeting, "Hey son, it's good to see you up and about. How you doing?"

"Me? Just peachy old man. Still I can't quite say the same for my brother."

Ignoring the pointed jibe John continued, "I heard from Caleb that you got cut up pretty bad in Florida. Said it was pretty nasty by all accounts."

Dean's voice was deceptively calm as he admitted, "Nothing a few nicely placed stitches couldn't sort out."

He saw his dad flinch but he continued, "Still on the plus side I'm gonna have a nice set of scars to get the girls excited about. Just like Sam has some fresh scars of his own to show off doesn't he dad?"

John's eyes glinted a little too brightly as he took in not only the anger but also the mistrust on his oldest son's face and guessed he was the reason behind it. "Son just let me explain things, about what happened here with your brother."

Dean for his part took in the weariness etched on his face and absorbed the fact that his dad looked beat, the worst he had seen him in a long time and could guess that his little brother was the cause of it. A twinge of pity made his words come out softer than he intended, "Just dish up the truth dad. I don't think I can stomach any more lies, not from you, not when it comes to my brother."

Shoulders slumping John seemed to deflate even further as he quizzed his son, "So what did Jim tell you?"

"I managed to squeeze out of him something about a drunk driver, about Joshua sorting out the body, but really little else. I'm guessing he thinks it's your job to tell me really how you let my brother get into such a mess."

Trying to gauge what damage control he had to do John asked softly, "So Jim didn't say anything else?"

There was a long pause before Dean added with more than a hint of bitterness, "Oh there was that little snippet of information that my baby brother has pneumonia and not the little cold you told me about."

Daring to lock eyes with his oldest John drew himself up square again and admitted, "Sounds pretty bad doesn't it Dean. Your brother getting hurt and then sick on top of everything else."

Dean was coiled so tightly his voice vibrated under his barely contained anger, "Ya think? Sam was just not high enough on your list priorities I guess."

Shaking his head in denial John's face hardened as he spat back, "That's a lie. You boys are my life."

"No dad, we're not. Not when it comes to you and hunting. At best we trail a poor second."

John knew that he was losing his oldest child and his desperation grew, "Your wrong Dean I do know where my priorities lie, and its always been with you two."

Noticing the sneakers he had bought his brother at the beginning of the summer drying on the stove Dean picked them up and the disquiet that had been eroding away his self control was now roaring in his ears, "Yeah I can see just were your priorities lay since you left California and it wasn't ever with Sammy."

Defiantly John stood his ground, trying to regain some modicum of control before the full truth in all its awfulness spilled out and he lost any hope of getting his son back on his side. "There was a lot going on and as usual your brother never said anything. He wasn't speaking to me remember? I'm not a freaking mind reader."

"No, what you were supposed to be was his dad - just this once at least."

"Don't you dare remind me what's written on his birth certificate," growled back John his own anger growing as Dean kept the digs coming in on his bad parent status. "I do my best with that boy but its never easy with him, not like it's been with you."

Dean slammed the sneakers back on the stove, "Best? You couldn't even buy him a pair of fucking boots dad. Hell I doubt you would have noticed him standing buck naked in a snow storm."

John looked guilty at the tatty footwear recalling the time his youngest boy had stood before him after having walked home in the freezing rain and he still hadn't noticed a thing wrong with the scene, "I let him down, I know."

He heard his son snort out loud in disgust and John responded as truthfully as he could, "Heaven help me I just assumed he'd ask if he needed stuff."

Dean stared openly in disbelief at his dad, "Sam gave up on asking anything from you when he turned nine, you just never cared to notice."

The words sunk in biting hard and John found himself blinking way the hot sting of tears, "It just became easier for you to be my eyes and ears when it came to looking after the boy."

"Yeah well you sent me off to Florida remember? This time out of the gate you were supposed to be that pair of eyes."

"And I screwed up big time didn't I Dean?" John cradled his head in his hands the enormity of his mistakes hitting hard. His voice broke as he confessed, "I almost lost him for you son. I didn't see what Burnett was. Didn't realise what sort of man he was…what he tried to do to my little boy."

Dean felt his stomach flip-flop and his voice was thin with fear, "You trying to scare me here dad?"

John slowly raised his head, dark eyes bright with tears as he looked at his oldest boy, saw the fear on his face, "I promised Sam that he could tell you. He begged me Dean to keep it a secret. What do I do here?"

Fiercely Dean shook his head, "You don't get to keep secrets from me, not when it involves my brother."

John nodded but he found it hard to get the words out, "Sam… your brother, well he thought you'd be mad at him just like I told him I was when I heard he'd it gotten into vehicle driven by some drunkard."

"Nothing new there," countered Dean sourly but stilled his tongue needing to hear the rest of his dad's confession.

John grimaced at the raw honesty behind his son's words, "Yeah I really lived up to his low expectations. You'll be pleased to hear that I tore strips off him and never listened to a word he said until he got angry, and only then when he said stuff that made me see red."

"Still doesn't explain why he thought I'd be mad at him," Dean leant in nose-to-nose to his father and growled out, "Or why he'd be too scared to tell me."

John swallowed hard before admitting, "That's my fault I guess. I just didn't think of the damage I was doing till it was too late but by then he got it into his head that you'd be doubly disappointed with him. It broke him Dean thinking that you could hate him. Like he thought I hated him."

Dean felt the bile in his throat on realising just how little support his brother had gotten from their dad, his knuckles white in a tight fist, "You were his only port of call dad, he'd been hurt and you shut him out. That's what you're telling me, correct?"

John bowed his head, his failures weighing heavy again, "I didn't even notice he had been hurt Dean, or even spot the signs that he was falling sick."

Dean's contempt dripped off his voice, "Like I said before the boy just doesn't register with you at times does he dad? How could you have not seen any of this?"

"I didn't see Sammy, all I saw were his questionable mistakes. It just fuelled my disappointment with him till he got angry and ended up saying terrible things, and I that's when just lost it completely.

"You hit him?" gasped out Dean in disbelief, his faith and trust in his father slipping even further away.

John shook his head in a hasty denial, "No. But I said words more painful than any mark my hand could have left. I drove Sam away when I should have been holding him tight after what Burnett tried to do."

"Do?" Dean found himself stumbling away from this dad, his mind racing and his heart beating painfully in his chest. "Do what?"

Aware of the damage he was about to do with the telling he took a long deep steadying breath, "Guess I break another promise to your brother, but your right, you really do need to know."

"Spit it out. I'm going crazy here with worry."

Daring to look at his older boy he saw the terror on his face, his mind leapfrogging ahead to the ugly truth he was about to reveal. "Burnett was a pervert Dean, a sexual predator. He'd been stalking your brother since we got here."

The blood ran from Dean's face and he whispered out his disbelief, "No, not my baby brother. Not that."

John continued, not daring to stop afraid that if he did he would never be able to tell him the whole sordid truth, "The bastard had targeted other boys in the past and knew just to bide his time with Sam. I left your brother alone with a fucking paedophile waiting on the doorstep."

He didn't see the fist hook into his face only felt the impact as he was knocked to the floor. The warm gush of blood sliding down his throat made him gag and he spat out a mouthful of crimson on to the floor. Turning watery eyes up to his son who towered over him he nodded his understanding, "Hit me again if it makes you feel better son. Not gonna change the fact that I let you down, let your brother down, so yeah a few more hits might distract me enough not to feel this gnawing pain in my gut in anymore."

"No," sobbed back Dean brokenly sinking to his knees, "You promised me he'd be okay dad. You promised."

John took a long juddering breath wiping away his own tears as he sat up to meet his son's gaze, "I'm sorry son."

Dean threw an accusing look at his father, "I let you take him away from me only because you said this was the best thing for my brother. Toughen him up, that's what you said. How is letting some fucking pervert rape him achieve that stupid goal?"

In an instant John crushed his son to him and shouted out a denial, "No son, no! I'm sorry if I let you think that, but the bastard didn't get a chance to touch your brother - not like that."

"Sammy wasn't…." Dean couldn't get the word out and John quickly interjected. "No son. You'd be proud of what our boy did, beat the man off and had him running scared for his life."

Relief washed over him and Dean found himself asking with a brittle voice. "You really sure?"

"One hundred percent sure. I had the doc check him over and he confirmed what he told me," John snorted softly pride making his voice wobble, "The boy did us proud."

Dean pulled away from his dad, and slowly got back to his feet. The initial fury at his dad mistakes had died down to a cold contempt. "Hallelujah, little Sammy has earned you respect at long last eh dad? And all he had to do was beat off a rapist, survive a road crash and deal with a bout of pneumonia. You have any idea what he might have to do now for an encore?"

John staggered back to his feet, sensing his son emotionally pulling away from him again, "Dean please, I get it, your pissed here but I honestly didn't think your brother would come to the harm he did. I thought he was safe here."

"Seems you hardly think on anything when it comes to Sammy," spat back Dean his hackles rising, "You even check this Burnett dude out before you dumped and run?"

John flinched at taking the verbal hit at his lack of parenting skills again, "What was there to check out? He was just the local storeowner and didn't exactly have the word 'Pervert' tattooed on his fucking forehead."

Dean wasn't ready to be listen to his dad's excuses, "So how many times did you go into that store and not notice the way he have looked at my brother. How could you not have known what sort of man he was?"

Stabbing a finger at his son John barked back, "Its always so easy to second guess things from a distance."

Squaring his shoulders Dean's mask of control fell back into place and he coldly remarked, "Second guessing is not a luxury you can afford when it comes to Sam. That's something you drummed into me from the moment he could walk."

John saw the big freeze going on with his oldest and sank back dejectedly back on to a chair and he finally had to admit, "I understand you hate me son. But what do you want me to do here? How can I make any of this right with you or your brother if you both shut me out?"

Dean could see how close to breaking his dad actually was and his voice wavered in response, "If you have to ask then your well and truly screwed old man."

"Please son, I really don't know what to do here. After all these years I thought I knew how to protect you both. I just forgot that not all bad things live in the dark and I almost let that mistake take Sammy from me, from us."

Dean studied his father, and was forced to realise just how close his family was to falling apart as he watched his dad crumble before him. For most of life he had struggled to keep their damaged unit of three together and he wasn't about to let it shatter apart in front of him now.

Clearing his throat Dean offered up, "You could just try being our dad. Sam is going to need to feel safe again. Can you do that for him?"

John nodded his head, a wintry smile testing his features as he sensed some form of forgiveness coming from his eldest. "Yeah son, I think I can do that."

"It would be good if you could," murmured Dean carefully thinking on what to say next, "Especially for Sammy. He has to know that he's worth more to you than a quarter a bag of salt."

John's lips trembled at the reminder of the bitter words he had used on his youngest in the past. Catching Dean's eyes he tried to offer up an apology, "I said that didn't I and I never made it right with him. You think he'll ever stop hating me after all of this?"

Recalling how his brother had slept so peacefully in his dad's embrace last night he shook his head, "Aw Dad…you still don't get it do you? The kid might not like you at times, even hate your guts for all the crap you put him though, but he's always loved you."

John drew his son to him, desperately aware at just how close he had come to losing his family, finding a comfort and reassurance when Dean didn't pull away. "I hope your right about Sammy, I really do. I love that kid more than life itself. Like we both do."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

After the uneasy truce brokered earlier in the day John wisely decided to leave Dean to watching over his brother.

Jim had insisted on sticking around, just to make sure that the peace lasted before daring to go home and as he sat eating almost burnt toast and drinking bad coffee he asked, "You think you really can do this Johnny – give up hunting and let you boys have normal for a while?"

"I have to Jim or I'll risk losing them both."

The knock on the door broke up their chat and Jim hastily shot to his feet, "Bet that's Birdy with Josh lurking outside in the shadows."

John allowed a rare smirk to grace his face, "The guy still afraid of that having to take a verbal licking from Dean?"

"That or something worse. I best let them in and hide Joshua behind the sofa or something."

Dean though had already beaten the pastor to the front door, eager to meet the man who was supposedly making his brother better. On seeing him though he gave him a less than welcoming reception, "Let me guess you're that quack Joshua rustled up to play doctor with Sammy?"

Riled at the less than civil reception Hal snapped back, "The medical diploma on my office wall has the title doctor if that's what you're referring to."

Dean looked him up and down and sneered back, "Must be hard to practicing real medicine being so vertically challenged."

"Tall or short they're very much the same on lying down," sniped back Hal dryly waiting for the man to step aside to let him in. When there was no movement he twitched his nose in irritation, "I should warn you that I charge by the minute."

Dean stepped grumpily to the side and muttered loudly enough for everyone to hear, "Anyone check this dude's licence to practice medicine other than in the Land of the Munchkins?"

A quirk of amusement lifted Hal's top lip despite himself, already liking the man with the sarcastic tongue in front of him. "You always this charming to the people that keep battered fifteen year olds off the radar of the Child Protection Services."

Dean bit back a response, knowing in part his reaction to the man was due to the fact that his pain meds had worn off a two hours ago and he shrugged out an apology. "Sorry I'm just a little grouchy."

Birdstrom extended out a hand, "My names Hal, and my guess is that your Sam's older brother Dean. Sam warned me you had a bit of a mouth on you."

Dean was surprised at just how firm a grip he had on shaking his hand, "So I guess I should say my thanks for looking after the runt. Jim said he's doing a hell of a lot better under your care."

The shorter man just chuckled, "Not like I had much choice in the matter when Jay kidnapped me. I think it was under the direct threat of being skinned alive if I didn't help Sam." Hal cocked his head over his shoulder, "Right old friend."

Nervously Joshua just nodded and Dean turned to face him. The anger and recriminations of earlier had lifted and he threw a small nod of welcome over to him. "Hey Joshua, is it true that Half-pint here is being paid by the minute?"

A sunburst of a smile met the question guessing that he had been forgive in his absence and Joshua felt the weight of the world lifting off his shoulders, "Yeah, he's already booked his flights to the Bahamas."

"Damn right I have," murmured Hal as he pushed past Dean to get to his patient. "You pesky macho hunters owe me big time from all the stitching up and repairs I've had to deal with over the years. This time out I'm collecting my dues in spades."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

It had been close to four days since he got back to his brother and sick or not he was starting to wear his patience down to almost nothing.

Pastor Murphy had left two days earlier taking Caleb back with him and without their calming influence it was just left to his dad, Josh and himself to keep Sam on track to getting fully back to health.

The trouble was that Sam had his own ideas on just how that was going to be achieved. Not content to stay in bed anymore they had to finally relent after too many successful escape attempts to let him rest up on the sofa during the day, watching dodgy cartoons and catching up on a stack of reading.

Now the only major cause of friction was forcing his skinny brother to eat anything. Dean had taken on board that the painkillers and antibiotics still coursing through his system were a dampener to his appetite but he was desperate to get some weight back on his brother.

As he saw his brother mouth set in a stubborn line of refusal he was not willing to give up when for the third time in as many minutes Sam refused to eat anything more.

"Sam come on, just another spoonful."

"I don't want any more damn chicken soup," puffed back Sam, pushing the bowl away as Dean tried to force-feed some more into his mouth.

Mentally Dean heard his patience snap as he find himself shouting out loud, "Listen you little brat, Birdy said you have to eat and that's exactly what you're going to do. Your just a bag of bones as it is."

"Birdy can go screw himself," pouted Sam, "He's just a sarky little runt who loves jabbing needles into me."

"Nice one Sammy. The guy gives up his spare time to nurse you back to health, risks losing his licence, his livelihood, and that's how you wanna thank him."

Dean smirked as he saw the flush of shame rise up Sam's neck and cheeks. "Look just finish this one bowl and I'll not bother you till supper time. Deal?"

Sam squinted his eyes in distrust but knew when to back down with his brother when given that steely look. Huffing out his annoyance he snatched the bowl out of his hands, "I can feed myself. Not a freaking baby you know."

Dean had to hide a smirk of approval as Sam lifted the bowl to his lips and chugged back the contents in one long draught. Plopping the spoon back on the empty bowl Sam glowered back at him, "Happy now?"

"I will be when you eat a donut."

"Ah come on Dean you promised!"

"Just one incy wincy little donut Sammy boy."

"Stop calling me that!"

Rolling his eyes in mock hurt Dean teased him further, "What? Sammy? But I've had your name freshly iced on the box of donuts I brought back from town this morning. You want me to pick the '_MY'_ off or something before you daintly shove the first one down your throat?"

Exasperation colouring his cheeks a darkening red Sam shook his head, "You really trying to turn me into some sort bulimic here, aren't you?"

"One little donut Sammy. Help put some flesh back on your non-existent butt."

"No!"

Dean pulled one from the box and waved it under his nose, the sweet smell making Sam's mouth water despite his insistence that he wasn't hungry. "They're crème filled Sammy. Just the way you like them."

Dean took a large bite, letting the creamy filling slide down his chin and he smirked knowingly when he heard his brother whisper, "That's just gross."

"Well if you just eat the one I promise to put the box in the kitchen and let dad tuck into them. Otherwise I'm sitting here and one by delicious one I'm going to eat them in front of you."

"Fine," huffed back Sam grabbing up the sweet treat and shoved half into his mouth in a large bite. He struggled just to chew threw the sticky mass and found a glass of cold milk shoved into his free hand.

"Drink that too and then we're really quits."

"Dean!" came out Sam's muffled groan of disbelief.

John's laughter could be heard clear from the kitchen as Dean got his way.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Less than hour later Dean was sitting in the kitchen supping coffee readying to start on his fourth donut as his brother slept soundly on the sofa.

"Birdy thinks he'll be well enough to go out by Sunday. Thought I might take him into town, get him decked out with a few things and then grab a pizza or something."

John nodded his agreement and Dean asked, "You wanna come along?"

Cautiously John looked at his oldest, "You think he will want me to tag along. He's still barely speaking to me and I don't want to make him feel uncomfortable and end up ruining things for you two."

"Don't worry about the not speaking. He clams up on me too every time I try to talk to him about what happened." He poked a whole into the centre of the donut and sucked out the crème filling before adding, "Just have to be patient and slowly wear down his resistance is all."

"Bit like you browbeat him into eating today…"

"Worked didn't it. We'll have our lovable cantankerous Sammy back in know time if we play our cards right here."

John reached over and squeezed his son arm in rarely expressed affection, "You're a good brother Dean. And a good son."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

_**Three days later.**_

"Dean, no!" screamed Sam at the top of his lungs as he watched his brother sink bonelessly to the ground. The virgin snow under his head rapidly turning a sickening darkening red.

Sam found himself screaming out his name again dropping to his knees beside his brother's prone form begging for understanding, "I'm sorry Dean. I didn't know."

**TBC**

AN. Well some of you might have been thinking that I was winding the story up to some nice sweet little ending as this chapter drew to a close but things are never that easy with Winchesters and there a few issues that still need to be addressed. Another chapter, max of 2, to go - I just hope you don't want to lynch me on leaving you on a bit of a cliffie.


	15. Chapter 15

Usual disclaimers apply and all mistakes too. Sorry it's taken me so long to get this (looong) chapter up and the fact that I have not had the time to respond in person to all the inspiring reviews and PM's. As usual I feel like an elastic band stretched too far waiting to either ping back to earth or go a mighty twang into the stratosphere! Despite my tardiness all reviews are still very warmly devoured. Rozzy

**Growing Pains – Chapter 15: Sticks and stones and broken bones**

_Sam found himself screaming out his name again dropping to his knees beside his brother's prone form begging for understanding, "I'm sorry Dean. I didn't know."_

**Two days earlier…**

"Come on Dean we've got enough stuff," griped Sam pointing down to the large carrier bags of winter clothing by his feet. He was more than ready just to haul his ass back to the impala and never, ever go shopping ever again.

The truth was that he hated the whole shopping experience and now he felt almost nauseous with exhaustion. Not that he would confess this to Dean who would go into major uber mother-hen mode and yank him back to the confines of the cabin and bed if he just sniffled the wrong way.

Ignoring the hint of rebellion in his brother's voice Dean held firm and he pushed his brother a half step back towards the changing rooms, "No way dude. You have only two pair of mangy jeans to your name, both with more holes in them than decency allows."

"They're comfortable," snapped back Sam his tiredness masked as irritation.

"Yeah well all it will take is one sneeze and they'll drop off your flat ass so fast you'll end flashing all of Baudette."

Sam rolled his eyes as the thought of having to strip off just to try on a few pair of jeans just seemed too much of an effort, "Nothing a belt won't fix."

Dean sucked his teeth annoyance as he pushed another couple of pairs of jeans into his brother's reluctant arms. "You know if you stopped growing like your supposed to we wouldn't have to be here in the first place,"

"Don't see why I have to try them on, they look long enough," pleaded back Sam trying to justify the argument by lining up one pair of jeans to his slim hips.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Just stop your bitching and try the stuff on. I'm not coming back for another refit so just get with the programme. Besides I can't help it if you grew funny."

"I didn't grow funny," pouted back Sam as he trundled back into the changing room knowing that he wasn't going to win this argument with his bull headed brother.

Dean's voice trailed after him, "No? Legs as long as a giraffes aren't exactly normally dude."

A few minutes later a flushed and exasperated Sam emerged and spat out sulkily, "They're too short."

Dean stifled a moan as he queried, "What all of them?"

Sam just nodded and dumped the clothes back in his brother's arms. As Dean muttered under his breath he pushed past him and headed back to the aisle of jeans throwing over his shoulder, "And another thing I didn't grow funny, you just grew dumpy and short."

It earned him a soft whack on the back of the head but he couldn't keep the grin at bay. Being as tall as his big brother was proving to be way too much fun. A delicate cough brought him to a halt and his eyes went wide in surprise, "Oh Mr Starling..hi."

Dean eyed the slim built man that screamed educator at him and threw his brother a tentative look but instantly relaxed when Sam's dimpled grin make a brief appearance.

"Samuel, you looking forwards to returning to school on Monday?" enquired Starling as he studied the boy in front of him with a careful eye. The boy looked worryingly pale and had clearly lost weight since the Halloween break and his brow furrowed in worry.

Nodding his agreement Sam was anxious to be on his way before Dean could get his teeth into the man, "Yes sir. Monday it is."

"We'll see," jumped in Dean pushing his way past his brother in a protective stance and offering up a half truth, "He's been sick with the flu and he's not rushing back till he's fighting fit."

"Dean!" Sam rolled his eyes in embarrassment as his brother blocked his escape route, "I'll be fine."

Starling raised an eyebrow at the older boy's protective stance before throwing him a small nod in greeting. "Hello Dean I'm Mr Starling, Vice Principal at Lincoln High. I believe though we spoke on the phone after you very kindly arranged for your brother's records from his last school to get to us before he started."

Dean gave a small nod in return, "Yeah glad to be of help for my brother the geek. And as big a thing as school is to him my thinking is that his health is more important."

Starling nodded his understanding not entirely convinced that Sam looked ready for a return anyway, "Well we can always supply him with work to do at home if needs be. Sam is an outstanding student and it would be pity for his grades to slip."

"I'll be back next week, so there won't be any need," snapped back Sam and threw his brother a hard look, daring for him to disagree.

Dean shrugged, his eyes unreadable, "We'll see how the ground lies Monday morning shall we? Nice to have met you Mr Swirling." He pulled at his brother's arm to get him moving again and threw over his shoulder with a malicious smirk, "Nice colour, hope it fits."

"Starling, its Starling." Percival Starling the third offered up but was only acknowledged with an indifferent shrug as Dean walked off.

He watched them for a moment then felt a blush rise to his cheeks on remembering what he had in hands. A bright red satin and lace bustier he had decided to buy for Patricia Muncey as 'their extra a special Christmas treat'. Hastily shoving the garment into his basket he muttered out a mortified, "Oh my dear lord…"

**o0o0o0o0o**

Dean couldn't hide a grin as he watched his brother pull at the stiff collar of the too new shirt, "Stop squirming squirt, it's not that time of year to have ants in yer pants!"

"Hilarious Mr Smartass," muttered back Sam before daring to voice his concern, "Dad's gonna freak when he sees the credit card bill you just racked up."

"It will be worth it little brother when all the hot chicks at school see the new packaging your in Sammy. You'll have to beat them off with a stick."

Sam grimaced and shot his brother a dark look, "Oh yeah a bunch of neurotic cheerleaders and way too clingy little Miss Populars, I think I'll take a rain-check and hang on to my sanity for a bit longer."

"Always so freaking picky," tutted back Dean wondering how is brother could pass up on all that teenage hotties that he seemed to be naively oblivious to at times.

Sam for his part just snapped back derisively, "I just have decidedly higher standards than you do."

"Ooh such a bitch!" murmured Dean though his attention was now firmly on the familiar truck parked outside the pizzeria and he added softly, "Looks like Dad's already here."

Sam didn't bother to respond, the cold sinking feeling in his stomach hitting hard again. With just him and Dean this morning he could almost believe that everything was normal, that Burnett never happened, but every time he thought of his dad that sick weight of censor fell back on his shoulders.

Dean watched the dull look return to his brother's eyes and tried to get him out of his returning funk, "It's just pizza Sam, not as if your being dragged to the dentist chair for a freaking root canal."

"I know," whispered back Sam unwilling to catch his brother's all to knowing stare, "Just not that hungry is all."

"Never gonna fatten you up at this rate dude," grinned Dean broadly trying to lighten the mood, "Still don't matter cos I'm hungry enough to eat enough for both of us."

"You always do," drawled back Sam his gaze drifting over to the small restaurant to catch sight of their dad with Joshua trailing behind him being led to a table and he quickly looked away.

Dean caught his reaction and steadied himself before speaking, determined get past the hard veneer Sam had put in place to mask his feelings. "If you're not up to this we can just get pizza to go. Watch a couple of movies and just chill. Dad will understand."

Sam surprised by the softness behind his words looked back at his brother, his gut twisting when he saw only concern on his face. Throwing a deflecting smile he shook his head, "Um, no its okay… besides Joshua's paying so we best make the most of it. Right?"

Dean felt his frustration rising again as his little brother kept him and the world at arms length. After a week of nudging and hinting, he was no nearer to this brother telling him one thing about Burnett, of what actually happened, and it was bugging the hell out of him now.

Taking the bull by the horns he advised, "You keep bottling things up your going to go pop! I know you too well little brother and this big silent macho stance you've adopted just isn't cutting it with me. You're going to have to speak to me about all of this sooner than later."

Resisting the engagement Sam growled back, "Last time I checked talking isn't the Winchester way of doing things? That's all that I'm doing," He took a steadying breath before adding bitterly, "Following by example just like dad expects."

"Well I was wrong. Dad was wrong." Dean paused to see that his brother was already switching off and he added in a soft plea, "Come on dude, you and I just need to sit down, perhaps with a few cold ones and get our head around all of this. About what happened."

"I don't need no stupid beer or a forced chick flick moment with my brother to know where my heads at," snapped back Sam and before Dean could add anything further he shoved open the door and exited abruptly, anxious for an escape.

Ignoring the call of his name Sam willed himself to put one foot in front of the other and headed towards the restaurant, when in truth all he really wanted to do was flee and find a dark corner to hole up and shut out the world.

Dean's purposeful digging was just a reminder of what he was trying to forget, that he hadn't been smart enough, hunter savvy enough to know what sort of monster Burnett was. It was bad enough taking in his dad's reaction, his rage and disappointment, that he just couldn't face that with Dean too. Not today at least.

Dean watched his brother march towards the restaurant and silently fumed at his own stupidity, "You idiot. Just don't know when to stop pushing do you?"

Anxiously he quickly followed after him and managed to catch up with Sam before he could go inside. Snatching at his elbow he drew his brother to a halt, "Come on Sam, don't let my motor mouth spoil what promises to be great pizza. Okay?"

Sam swallowed down the knot in his throat and nodded his agreement feeling a little silly for throwing such a tantrum only seconds before. "Guess I'm just a little tired. Sorry for being such a brat."

Looping an arm over his brother's still too thin shoulder as they went inside Dean grinned happily, "For sure you're a brat, but like you said it's a rare event when Joshua's wallet makes an appearance. Tonight we eat like kings."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

"Might have been best after all if I hadn't shown up," offered up John as he watched his youngest head back to his room without a backward glance. "Sam hardly ate a thing and you could cut the tension in the air with a rusty hacksaw."

Dean puffed out a loud sigh, "No sir this wasn't your fault. He's over tired and I sort of set him on edge before we even got out the car. I offered to let him off load and I might as well have asked him to pour sulphuric acid down his throat."

John's worried a glance back to the bedroom door and felt at a loss at what to do next, "The boy has gotten too damn good at that lately. Shutting us out."

Dean nodded his agreement, "Yeah, feels like he can deflect a question as soon as answer one. I've dropped enough hints that we need to talk that I'm in danger of digging a hole all the way to China."

"So what do we do next? He can't pretend it didn't happen or things will never move on," spat back John Winchester. "He's in danger of losing sight of the real issues here Dean and things will never get back on track."

Alarm bells ringing Dean squared his shoulders and spat out, "Hold your horses old man. 'back on track' and 'real issues'? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Dean!" huffed back John in exasperation, "I just think you babying him like this is doing more harm than good. He needs to face up to things before we can bury that whole sorry mess of Burnett behind us."

Dean's bridled at his dad's accusation, "And so now you're the great arbitrator on all things that's best for my brother?"

"Don't twist my words here," admonished John his voice taking on a harder edge as his oldest still continued to butt heads with him. "I'm the boy's father and yes I do know what's best for him in the long term."

Dean hardly able to believe his ears let hot angry words spill out, "Best for him? My brother would never have gotten sick in the first place if you had seen what was going on here."

"And that mistake is something your never gonna forgive me for, is it?"

"Damn right," yelled back Dean his honesty flung back at his dad harder than any physical punch.

Dean studied his dad as his angry admission was met by a frustrating silence and he was forced to ask, "You still up to the deal? Cos if you're not tell me now. I meant about putting the kid first, and if you can't do that then…"

John looked angry enough to put a hole in something as he spat back, "Damn it Dean, you're like a broken record here. I said I'll make more of an effort with him and I am trying but the truth is he just doesn't need me. All I've done is sit on my butt doing diddly squat this past week."

"Sitting on your butt huh?" snapped back Dean, "Is that how you see it? Like its some chore to be a father again?"

John snapped his mouth shut and spun on his heels and headed for the kitchen needing as much space from his oldest child as possible. No matter his best intentions things were spiralling out of control again as Dean just couldn't get past his resentment for all the mistakes he had made with Sam.

As he poured out his first shot of tequila he could feel the tremble in his fingers as he raised the glass to his mouth but welcomed the burn in his throat as he downed it one long gulp.

Dean watched him critically from the kitchen doorway before heading to the fridge for a beer. "You want one?" he asked and saw his dad shake his head as he poured out another shot of tequila.

"Is this how your planning to deal with things?" asked Dean with a pointed look at the rapidly emptying bottle in his dad's hand. "You think that's gonna help you. Help Sam?"

"Back off boy," growled John in warning as he finished his third shot in as many minutes. His mouth was set in a grim line and he knew he was close to losing control with his oldest boy.

Dean turned away his voice dripping with sarcasm, "You talk the talk when it suits you, but I can see that you're just itching to get away from this place. From us."

"I'm here aren't I? I've given up everything like you asked." Waiving the third empty bottle at his son John spat out, "You want me to give this up too?"

Sadly Dean shook his head, "No dad. I see it now. That hunting is like drug for you and this whole week you've been going through freaking withdrawal. Still I don't think that even a bottle of Jose is going to touch the hole inside of you."

John's fingers stilled and the glass remained firmly on the table as he looked at his son in desperation, "I'm trying to fill it, with you and your brother, but its not like I'm doing any good here. All I'm doing is treading water waiting to drown."

Despite himself Dean found himself chuckling at the imagery, "Come on dad, that so melodramatic don't ya think? Especially when I know you can swim like a freaking fish."

John flashed an acknowledging smile, "Sounds like something your brother might say I guess."

"Yeah real estrogen moment." Taking the bottle from his dad's unresisting fingers Dean purposely put the stopper back in place. "You really want to give up on this so quickly? So easily?"

"You think its easy seeing my child flinch whenever I go to touch him, even just speak to him?" John eyed the bottle in Dean's hand and fought the need to grab it back from him "I love him despite what you might think and I am trying. I just don't think he wants this from me, this being his dad."

'_Not when he has you_.' John silently admitted to himself. He had allowed his oldest son to bridge that gap with Sam when he was just a baby and now there was no going back.

Sucking back his growing desperation he admitted to his oldest, "Just do what you want here Dean. I'm not standing in your way with the boy. Not anymore."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Sam curled in on himself on sofa, the TV on blaring out info commercial as he tried to tune out the angry words he had heard last night from his brother and dad. Knowing that he was the reason why they had ended up fighting again he just wished he could magically fix the damage he had done between the two of them. But there was no such thing as magic in his world. Only the cold truth of monsters in whatever form they took.

"I'm sorry Dean," he confessed in a choked whisper as he yanked the blanket over his head as to hide his own misery, "I'm really sorry."

"Sorry for what little brother?" queried Dean as he sat tiredly on the floor by the end of the sofa, rubbing the grit from his eyes and stifling a yawn. When he had heard the familiar nightmarish thrashings still and his brother get up to head for the living room he dared to break the routine of the last few nights and followed after him.

Easing back the blanket from his brother's startled head he offered up a weak smile, "Its not even close to dawn dude. You wanna head back to bed and try and sleep or you ready for that chat?"

"Don't want no beer," confessed Sam, turning around to face his brother, anxiety stirring in his stomach as he caught his brother's intense gaze. "I know you know, that dad told you everything. Guess he had too…"

Dean nodded slowly and dared to ask, "Look Sam whatever it is, whatever happened I really need you tell _me_. Let me in on what's happening in your head little brother. Don't keep shutting me out like this."

Sam swallowed deeply realising he was just too tired to keep the barriers up and his brother at arms length anymore and he stuttered out, "You promise you won't hate me Dean? You'll not go ballistic like dad did, will you?"

"Yeah I promise Sam." Dean felt his heart in his mouth as he glimpsed the need for him return in his brother's eyes and he added, "I've been around the block kiddo too many times for you do or say anything that I've not seen or heard before."

Sam nodded and whispered sadly, "I wish I could be like you Dean. I wish I didn't mess up like I do and get everything and everyone mad at me."

Dean squeezed a hand on his brother's trembling shoulder in support, "You didn't do anything wrong. Talk to me here and let me understand what played out. How you're still letting that bastard mess with your head. Please Sammy."

Sam took in a long shuddering breath, tears glistening in his eyes as he looked at his brother, "I just never realised that someone so sick could pretend to be so normal. Like dad said I was pathetically gullible. Stupid, real stupid, eh?"

"Tell me Sam, tell me what happened that night. Why did you get in that madman's truck?" There was no censor in Dean's voice only the need to understand what had driven his brother into such a reckless act.

Sam looked away closing his eyes as the memories assaulted his vision. "It was raining hard and I'd gotten another detention. It meant I missed the school bus home so I guess I was just too tired to notice he was one shot away from being fall down drunk."

Realising it was at least an eight mile trek Dean found himself voicing out his disbelief, "Jeez Sammy since when did you start picking up detentions?"

Sam just shook his head refusing to meet his brother's dark gaze, "When he pulled up he wouldn't take no for an answer, kept hinting that he could make a lot of trouble for dad. I just thought it was a short ride, five minutes max but then when he started to say things, horrible things about what he wanted to do…. I got crazy mad and just lost it."

As much as he hated to ask Dean still needed to have the complete picture and he whispered softly, "So what did you do? What happened?"

Sam drew his knees up to his chest and admitted, "I hit him when he tried to…you know, and then things went crazy and then he smacked the van into a tree. I don't know how I got out but I did and I thought I had chance to get away, but he was fast and my head…"

Brushing gentle fingers over his bangs Dean nodded his understanding, "Took a hard whack didn't you?"

"Lucky though eh?"

"How's that?"

"Didn't go through the windscreen only gave it a good smack."

Dean felt his ability to breathe desert him and his fingers tensed on his brother's shoulder and Sam instantly stilled. Knowing his reaction was the cause Dean lifted his fingers away, "I'm sorry that I wasn't there Sam."

When there was no response Dean nudged him lightly, "So you got mad kiddo, that must have scared the crap out of the bastard."

Shaking his head in denial Sam, "I was the one real scared, I thought he was going to kill me. He was bigger, heavier than me and when he pinned me down I…." He gulped back the memory before admitting. "I know he was just a man but I was scared worse facing him than any freaking ghost."

The confession tore at Dean and his chin wobbled dangerously, "Yeah I can just imagine. You can deal with all the dark unnatural things of this world but against a human monster like Burnett it must have been scary bad."

Sam choked on a broken sob as he asked, "He was a monster wasn't he Dean? And its okay for me to be glad he's dead isn't it?"

Seeing the plea for understanding in his brother's still too innocent eyes Dean swallowed back a sob of his own, "Oh god Sam, is that what's been eating you up inside? Is it? The bastard deserved worse that just a hit and run. Believe me if I had been here I would have killed him long and slow."

"But he was a man Dean and I got him killed."

Dean bit down on his tongue afraid of the words wanting to spill out of him and the violence behind them. After a few long steadying breaths he managed to offer his brother some comfort, "You weren't the reason he died little brother. My guessing is that he brought this on himself a long while back."

The memories were painfully fresh and raw again and Sam hugged his arms around his knees to offset the shivering as he admitted, "I still hear it every night. The squeal of tires, the thud of flesh hitting metal. I see him all broken up, dead in the middle of the road and I know I should feel some pity for him but I'm just happy he's dead. Does that make me a bad person Dean? Does it?"

"Oh come here kid," growled Dean softly, pulling his brother into a tight embrace, "You could never be bad Sam. Never. Not in a million years you idiot."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

The smell of burning toast filled the small cabin followed by a stream of curse words as John Winchester tossed the latest batch of burnt bread into the bin, "This is fucking useless. Stupid toaster."

The toaster and its need to incinerate every single piece of bread put in it had snapped his patience and he yanked it from its socket so that it followed the pile of burnt toast into the trash.

Dean shook his head as he watched his dad's meltdown a grin on his face as he watched him kick his frustration out on the bin, "Inanimate object dad."

John swirled round and his scowl transformed into a sheepish shrug. "Damn thing was possessed. Hell spawn I tell you."

Dean sniggered at the exaggeration. "You ever think that if you turned the setting down you might have gotten that lovely golden brown that Sammy loves?"

John frowned his disbelief and ducked his head into the open bin noticing for the first time the additional knobs on the toaster, "Well I'll be dammed." Straightening up again he kicked the bin for the second time, "Too late now. The whole loaf went up in smoke."

"So best we get Josh to swing by that bakery and get us something in then," drawled Dean softly as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

John nodded his agreement daring to cast an eye into the living room to see if youngest had witnessed his little tantrum and let out a sigh of relief as Sam continued to sleep on the sofa. "Your brother had another bad night I take it."

"I'm hoping it's his last dad," remarked Dean cryptically. He yawned and straightened out a few cricks in his back and shoulders from sleeping funny on the floor by his brother's side.

"So he finally opened up to you Dean?" John dared to ask his stomach doing summersaults in anticipation.

"God help me dad but yeah he did. Poor kid has been walking around with a bucket load of guilt on his shoulders that no one or anything had a right to put there."

"You mean what I put there son, don't you?" John sagged down into a chair shaking his head sadly at the honesty behind his son's words.

Dean shook his head, "No it wasn't just you dad. You know Sam has always felt and seen things different from us. I think you know where I'm coming from here don't you old man?"

"Yeah, its that part of him I've tried all his life to carve out of him, the reason why I brought him here in the first place," admitted John sadly. "I just get scared it'll get him killed one of these days Dean. The way he refuses to see the world for what it is."

"That's just our Sammy dad. You can't undo what you and mom made. It wouldn't be natural." He paused a twinkle in his eye as he added, "Besides like you said he beat that bastard off didn't he? Makes you proud that we did something right with the kid, that we raised him tough enough to take care of himself despite what the worst of life throws at him."

John weakly laughed, "Yeah I guess we did something right. You really think he'll be okay? That the worst is over now?"

"I hope so. Though you know if I could resurrect Burnett's slimy ass and skin him alive inch by fucking inch I would."

"Join the queue son, join the queue."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Sam startled awake as the cabin's front door slammed shut and Joshua strode in arms full of grocery bags. His stomach rumbled at the sight and he was surprised to find himself feeling hungry for the first time in an age. Bleary eyed he followed after the huge hunter and slid into an empty chair in the decidedly crowded kitchen giving his dad and brother a small nod of recognition.

The release of talking earlier that morning to his brother had shifted something off him, some invisible weight, and he actually felt eager to meet the day.

John's eyes flickered over his dishevelled son's appearance and he dared to push a hand over his head to brush back the hair standing up on end. When there was no resistance only a goofy smile he whispered out, "Morning sleepy head."

His tummy did flip flops on hearing his baby boy simply say in response, "Hey dad."

Not remembering the last time he had heard his son call him 'dad' without any anger in his voice he couldn't keep his own stupid grin off his face and he hastily turned away to pour him a fresh glass of juice.

"You hungry dude?" probed Dean as he eyed his brother and dad. Snatching up a fresh loaf out of one of the grocery bags he deftly deposited four slices into the rescued toaster. A small flash of dimples was his answer and Dean sensed the whole room relax at such a natural sight.

"What you hunting?" Sam asked as he looked at the stack of books on the far side of the table.

Joshua looked at John to make sure he wasn't going to upset the delicate truce with his big reveal, "Poltergeist I think – in an old printing mill in Arkansas. Your dad's helping me out with the research."

"Cool," whispered back Sam, reaching out for a historical book that the older man had acquired from the local library. "What makes you think it's a poltergeist, could be the building itself. A witches curse or something."

John nodded his agreement, his chest inflating with pride as he listened to his youngest debate the possibilities with his friend.

Breakfast was an easy affair for Sam as he actually found himself able to eat without three pairs of eyes focused on him as the debate heated up on what type of hunt Joshua was actually heading into. It felt actually good too be involved with something new, a distraction that he knew he could sink himself into.

After another pile of toast was shoved in front of him Sam glanced up at his brother and smiled a refusal, "Um no thanks Dean. Gonna take a shower."

"But its made just how you like them," hissed Dean in frustration, "Perfect Lil'Sammy toasties."

"Yeah just like the other four slices I've put away already. No, I need a shower." Sam hauled himself up and pushed the plate towards his brother ignoring the mock wounded glare thrown at him.

"Yeah your right stinky Sammy really does need a shower," huffed Dean as he watched his little brother head for the bathroom.

Sam threw him the finger over his shoulder as a response, "Its Sam you jerk."

"Bitch," called out Dean before shoving a slice of warm buttery golden toast into his mouth just before two other pairs of hands snaked the rest of the pile from under him.

"Gerrrorrrf," Dean managed to express his indignation his mouth too full to do anything else as the stack disappeared.

"Thanks," grinned back John as he enjoyed his son's efforts.

"Perfect dude, gonna make someone a lovely little wife one day," complimented Joshua just ducking low enough to miss the heavy hand headed his way.

The morning wore on, and the living room started to resemble a huge research engine with Sam sitting happily in the middle, surrounded by notes, books, maps and a stack of dingdongs and a glass of milk his brother had slipped into the mix at some point.

John hovered in the kitchen doorway watching how his youngest teased Joshua over his atrocious Latin pronunciation and turned back to Dean. "This seems good for him. Maybe we're turning the corner here?"

"Yeah lets hope so." Dean paused and looked at his dad a little guiltily, "About last night I said stuff that was a little harsh. I just got so frustrated that I wasn't making any inroad with the kid that I lashed out at you."

Taking the olive branch for what it was John smiled ruefully, "Son its foreign ground for both of us here, learning to sit back and let Sam lead the way forwards."

"Still it must be hard for you watching Joshua gearing up for another hunt and not want to go with him."

John stiffened at the question, knowing that this was his son's indirect way of asking if he was going to break his word to him, "I'm not going anywhere Dean. Not till Sam is ready to go."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

His dad's booming voice jerked him awake, "Dean get your brother. Lunch is ready."

Groggily he looked around the littered front room strewn with open books and paperwork to find it empty of his brother, The unintended catnap that had snuck on him had left him feeling a little disorientated and he scrubbed a calloused hand over his face.

The last clearl thing he could remember was his brother shrugging on his jacket intent on getting the rest of the books out of Joshua's trunk. Snaking a look at his watch he realised a full hour had passed and he got to his feet and called out, "Sam?"

John came out of the kitchen, "Come on you guys. Joshua's cooked up enough pasta to feed a platoon."

Yawning Dean shook his head to free himself of the cobweb of sleep. "Sorry dad, must have dozed off."

John pushed him towards the kitchen, "Sit down, I'll go rustle up your brother."

Dean stumbled into the kitchen and took in the mess of pots and pans littering the sides and sink and he growled out, "Well I can categorically say that I'm not on washing up duty."

Joshua grinned back at him, "You saving that chore for Sammy?" Kid's been sick doesn't seem fair if you ask me."

Dean shook his head as he sat down a the table, "Low blow dude." A bowl of pasta was shoved at him and as eyed the state of the kitchen he added, "This better be worth it."

"Hey this recipe comes all the way from the old country. My grandmother's own secretly guarded sauce."

Poking a fork at the spaghetti Dean wasn't convinced, "The old country huh? Didn't you tell me once that your family came originally from Scotland."

"Yeah, Scotland so what… a good sauce is a good sauce."

Dean had to agree as he sampled his first mouthful and gave him a small thumbs up in appreciation.

Joshua looked over his shoulder and asked as he set out another serving, "So where's your brother, head still stuck in a book or what?"

"I guess," muttered Dean as he continued to wolf down the pasta, "Last thing I remember before Pam Andersons considerable assets took me off to dreamland was him heading out to get the rest of the books and other stuff from your trunk."

"Oh hell no," gasped out Joshua the mug in his hand falling with a clatter onto the table. Panic took over and he rushed out of the kitchen and ran straight into John. Grabbing an elbow to keep him on his feet he asked, "Where's your boy John?"

John shook his head his forehead creased in worry, "I don't know, he's not in the house. 'Bout ready to go search outside."

Dean had trailed after the older hunter and saw the fear flash across his face and his mouth went dry, "Josh what the hell is going on here. What's in the trunk that's got you scared shitless."

Joshua pushed past the oldest Winchester not waiting for the penny to drop and raced out side. He jumped off the veranda into knee-deep snow and pushed himself in long lurch towards his vehicle. "May be he didn't see it…" he prayed out loud, "Just got the books and that's it."

As he approached the car he knew his prayer was too late as on the ground around the open hatch door were papers and photographs strewn all around. Burnett's large collection of files on all his past victims stared back at him and he vented out his anger by punching the metal flank of the car, leaving a dent and bloodied smear from his split knuckles.

"You stupid idiot," Joshua screamed out loud.

He felt himself being spun round, John snarling at him an accusation, "You let my boy see all this sick crap. I thought you offloaded it?"

"Oh god John I'm sorry. Your friend, Sheriff Adams, was going to swing by and pick it all up. We just never sorted out a time and place."

It wasn't enough for John whose fist knocked him to the ground. "You should have burnt it all, goddam you."

Joshua shook his head and struggled back on to his feet, a hand out stretched to ward off a still infuriated John, "I told you I'd burnt all the stuff on Sam. But these other boys, Adams may know who they are. Might be able to help them, their families."

"I don't give a rats ass about these other kids. Just what this will have done to my boy," growled back John kicking some of the photo's and notebooks aside in anger.

Fear kept his tongue stilled as Dean crouched down to pick up some of the files scattered on the ground the implication of the older men words hitting hard. Boys, some younger than his brother, stared back at him in a serious of disturbing pictures that had him lurching to the side of the vehicle to bring up his lunch.

John came to his side pulling him upright at the last dry heave his face tense with worry, "Come on Dean, suck it up, we need to find your brother."

Shaking his head Dean shoved the bundle of photos hard against his dad's chest in disgust, "You knew about these pictures and didn't do a damn thing," he tossed an angry nod over at Joshua, "This was one hell of a ticking time-bomb readying to go off wasn't it? Did neither one of you think what would happen if Sam found this stuff?"

"Please Dean I didn't think this through I know. For the life of me I never wanted your brother to see any of this."

"Bit too late for that cos' now my little brother really knows what a sick fucker that man was. What he really would have done to him. This is one major fuck up you both managed to engineer here."

John stepped in to try and diffuse the situation a little, "Dean I know this looks bad, but you have to remember that Burnett never touched your brother. He never got the chance."

Ignoring his dad Dean turned to face Joshua his voice clipped with anger and worry, "You said you burnt all the stuff on my brother. Exactly what stuff?"

Joshua darted a look at John but Dean stepped forwards blocking his line of sight. "Don't you worry about him," he leant in dangerously, the threat clear, "I'm gonna ask for the last time – what exactly had that pervert on my brother?"

"The creep was stalking your brother…he took a few photos, kept a diary of his movements and stuff. "

All colour drained from Dean's face as he asked, "Photos?"

"Believe me they were innocent enough Dean. Just some of your brother at the bus stop, in the store and the like. Nothing like them," Joshua indicated with nod to the photos on the ground.

Dean ducked his head to his chest struggling just to draw in oxygen as the red haze of fear and anger kept him locked to the spot.

Sensing his son readying to explode John tried to get him to focus on what needed to be done now, "Come on, let it go. We have to find your brother."

Dean shook his head, eyes clouded with pain as he took on board the enormity of what his brother had faced and now seen, "No. I'll find him, see what damage control I can do. You two just clear up this mess. Make sure none of it is here when he comes home."

John put a hard crushing hand on his shoulder, his fear expressed as tears falling freely down his face "None of this should have happened and I know I should have stopped it Dean, but please just bring him back safe for me. Okay? I just want him home."

Taken aback by his dad's emotional display Dean let his anger mutate into understanding, "Yeah dad, I will. I'll bring him back home."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Sam had walked hard and fast down to the lakes edge, the photo in his hand just one of many that made his guts clench and unclench with each step as they flashed in an unending sequence in his head.

After all he had told Dean in the grey world of early morning he thought the nightmare was coming to an end, that finally he could let go of the pain. Instead now he had a physical reminder of just what Burnett would have done to him and any guilt at being in anyway responsible for his death vanished.

As he clenched the photo in his hand he just hoped that some good might come of this all. The tightness in his chest wasn't just down to the heavy trek and his weak lungs, it was also due to the tremor of emotions running through him as he dared to stop, and call out a name. "Matt. Matthew?"

Waiting with more than a tinge of trepidation at the edge of the iced over lake Sam looked around, hoping for a response. "Matt. It's me Sam Winchester. You helped me remember?"

"Hey kid," came the deep drawl behind him and he spun round to the smiling face of a boy long dead.

Sam's hands shook as he looked at the photo and then back at Matt and he had his answer. This may not have been the wisest of things he could have done he suddenly realised but finding his voice he admitted, "You came….I didn't know if you would be here."

"Just taking in the view, remember?" The ghost kicked at a flat stone and watched it skid across the ice with a small smile before turning his attention back to Sam, "You have another bust up with your old man because I have to say you still look like shit."

"Got sick, but I'm better now," admitted Sam with a forced smile.

Idly Matt looked him over and asked, "So what brings you back here?"

"I want to help you," stuttered out Sam softly, "I know what he did, how he hurt you. He tried to do the same to me."

The world seemed to still around him, the silence between them prolonged and awkward so that Sam could hear just how loudly his heart thumped in his chest and how greedily his lungs worked to drag in air before he had the courage to whisper out one name, "Burnett."

It was as if a veil lifted with the mention of that name and Matt Merton's mutilated form stood before him bloodied and battered. The bullet hole in his head a frightening reminder of the fate Sam had narrowly missed. "Oh god I'm sorry," Sam gasped out stumbling backwards in both horror and disbelief.

A feint-keening wail rose from Matt's mouth as he studied Sam's young features, "Too young. Always too young and I can't ever stop him." A flash of dark anger made his features solid, "I won't let him, or anyone hurt you again Sam. I promise."

"You don't have to Matt. You can pass on now. Everything has been sorted out. Burnett's dead."

Matt blinked back his surprise, wanting so much to believe the younger boy glowing with such life before him. "I think I understand. I have to go don't I?"

When Sam mutely nodded he added sadly, "You'll tell my brothers, my sisters, to be good, to be safe. Yes?"

"I promise," snuffled back Sam unable to stop his tears from falling now. Matt leant in to try and brush them aside but opaque fingers just left a touch of frost on his face.

Dean on leaving the tree line screamed out his brother's name as he watched the apparition reach out for his brother, "Get your fugly hands off him you bastard."

Sam watched in horror as his brother dove between the ghost to push him physically backwards so that he fell awkwardly to the ground.

Dean turned momentarily to scream at him, fear making his voice hard, "What the hell Sam, get your sorry butt up that hill before I kick you up there myself."

Sam tried to get up but his feet kept slipping on the icy ground but he tried to make his brother listen, "No, please you don't understand."

"I wont let you hurt him," warned Matt sinking icy fingers into Dean's shoulders and lifting him up off the ground. Then with a force borne of the power of undead and righteous anger he threw him with a skull jarring impact into the solid trunk of a tree.

"Dean, no!" screamed Sam at the top of his lungs as he watched his brother sink bonelessly to the ground. The virgin snow under his head rapidly turning a sickening darkening red.

Sam found himself screaming out his name again dropping to his knees beside his brother's prone form begging for understanding, "I'm sorry Dean. I didn't know."

Shucking his jacket off he cradled his brother's head on top of it. Next he tore off his top shirt and wrapped it tight around his skull, gagging slightly at the thick sent of blood cloyed the air. "I didn't know he'd hurt you brother. I didn't think."

Matt crouched down besides Sam his brow marred in a frown. "He's your brother?"

Before Sam could react the ghost flickered then vanished.

Sam cradled his brother to him, "God Dean, what did I do. What did I do?"

Pushing aside his panic he knew he had to get help and desperately he searched for his brothers cell phone and let out a shaky breath when he found it undamaged. "Dad, please come quickly, I'm by the lake. Dean's hurt, real bad. I can't stop the bleeding."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

John paced the long corridor back and forth throwing furtive glances at his youngest who sat shockingly still in the hard plastic seat. Joshua sat with him, trying now and then to engage him in conversation but Sam's head remained permanently bowed, his face hidden by a blanket of dark hair, lost to his own thoughts as they waited to see if his brother would survive.

Since getting Dean to the hospital the words skull fracture had made John go weak at knees before he lost sight of his oldest boy as he was whisked off for surgery. Now almost two hours later he was left festering, waiting for news on how his oldest fared.

Needing to break the silence he strode up to youngest boy, whose garbled confession on the frantic drive to the hospital had truly made no sense. "Sam. Look at me. I need you tell me again exactly what happened."

Sam didn't look up his eyes still firmly fixed the on the strange patterns of crimson that had dried on his hands. "Its my fault, all my fault. I saw the photos and I wanted to help him like he'd helped me. Then Dean turned up and he was angry and then…."

John firmly took his chin and dragged up his head up to meet his searching gaze, "And then what? What happened. Who did this to your brother?"

"I did. It's all my fault."

"Jesus Sam pull yourself together and tell me what the hell went down there. Why is any of this your fault?"

Joshua wisely kept his silence knowing that he would do neither Winchesters any good by getting in between them now.

Sam looked blankly at his dad, as if his guilt was so obvious that there was a need for words. With a small shrug he whispered out, "Because he wouldn't have been there if I hadn't called for him."

John felt his temper rising along with an unsettling fear, "Who Sam, who did you call."

Twisting in his long fingers together Sam confessed, "A spirit."

John took a step back, his hand falling away from his son's face in shock, "You did what?"

Joshua sucked in a breath of disbelief and he instinctively stood between him and his youngest worried that the man was about to strike the boy. A voice broke the impasse as a familiar face appeared, "John, I've got news on Dean."

John threw a bitter look at his youngest before spinning around to face Hal Birdstrom, "It better be good Bird."

Bird smiled softly, knowing the delicacy of the matter, "Better than expected. Dean came through surgery well. He's stable, and is been transferred to ICU as we speak."

"I want to see him," commanded John. He threw a look at his still seated bowed headed youngest and ordered Joshua, "Take him home. I can't deal with him too right now. Keep him there till I call. You got it?"

What frightened Joshua more than the cold fury directed at the boy from his old friend before he stormed after Bird was just how easy it was to get Sam to follow him back to the car.

_**TBC**_

_One more chapter to go folks. Hopefully up a little faster than this one!_


	16. Chapter 16

_Usual disclaimers apply. A later date than I had anticipated in getting this posted but in my defence RL has well and truly sucked, and then when I did find time to type my fingers went into overdrive! So, its not quite the end chapter as I had hoped, but it is now most certainly the penultimate one before I put this little story to rest…I promise! Feedback as always devoured despite my tardy status. Rozzy_

**Growing Pains – Chapter 16: Big fat bunch of maybes…**

As he walked behind Sam back into the warmth of the cabin Joshua was left to wonder just how soon the boy would break apart and how he was supposed to set about picking up the pieces when that happened.

What he was seeing with the teenager wasn't in anyway natural, as the Sam Winchester he knew of old would have fought tooth and nail to stay with his brother. This newly transformed acquiescent persona he had developed was frankly starting to scare the crap out of him, and he was not a man easily scared.

Shrugging out of his worn army khaki jacket Joshua dared to cast a critical eye over Sam and his top lip curled involuntary at the sight. He was a walking nightmare with his brother's blood dried on him, even matted into the brown of his hair in reddish clumps. Praying that the boy wouldn't fight him on this he suggested, "Listen why don't you head for the shower and get cleaned up. I'll set about rustling us up some supper,"

When Sam headed off to the bathroom without argument Joshua let out a shaky exhale, daring to think the battle half won. Scrubbing a handing over his greasy hair he thought about tidying up the carnage he had left in the kitchen from lunchtime only to have his assumptions that he had things under control shattered as the sound of breaking glass splintered through the cabin.

"What the…," he groaned out loud before taking off on long legs to barrel into the bathroom only to draw to an abrupt stop, words failing him at the sight before him.

A frighteningly still Sam stood by the sink his fist still centred in the remains of the bathroom mirror.

For Sam it was the quickest and most efficient way of getting rid of the offending blood stained visage that had tautned him on daring to look in the mirror.

Joshua sucked in a breath of alarm and not for the first time that night longed for the likes of Jim Murphy to help him out here with the boy, "Sweet Mary and freaking Joseph kid…. you lost your marbles or what?"

When there was no response Joshua caught him forcibly by the shoulders and pulled up his hand to inspect the damage, hissing at the series of lacerations that crisscrossed his still clenched fist.

"You stupid pup," he growled out in disgust, pulling out a long shard of glass imbedded under the skin before wrapping his hand in a towel. "Gonna need stitches for sure. Never mind the seven years of bad luck you've just earned yourself."

Finding his voice Sam answered back whilst trying to pull out of the bigger man's touch, "Nothing I don't deserve, right?"

Joshua's nostril flared in temper and he tightened his grip, "No you don't mister. I know your upset about your brother, about your dad, but hurting yourself like this is not the solution."

Sam looked down to the towel being firmly wrapped around his fist and he gave a soft snort of indifference, "It doesn't hurt."

Fighting down his own distress at hearing the boy's admission Joshua growled back, "Yeah, well just you wait until I start stitching up this stupid mess."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

John Winchester had quit his pacing back and forth half way through the night and now just sat and waited. From the bank of wires and monitors his oldest boy looked disturbingly vulnerable, and not even the reassuring words of the surgeons and neurologists involved in his care offered the comfort he needed right now.

All he knew is that he needed to put right what had gone wrong between him and Dean. What had happened with Sam had cause so much damage, shattered his oldest boy's faith in him that he wondered if he could ever earn his respect again. In truth it had been hard being sidelined, marked as redundant in the parents stakes, as Dean poured all his energies into doing right by his brother and ignored him completely.

John leant in fighting back the ironic laugh caught in the back of his throat at the realisation that Dean's reward for all his coddling of his little brother was for him to end up with his skull bashed and to lie in hospital bed looking more dead than alive.

Bitterly John offered up his thoughts to his sleeping son, "I don't know why your brother chose do something so reckless but he'll never make another mistake like this again, I promise you that son. I know you think me mean sonnofabitch with Sammy at times but even now you must realise the reasons why. We can't afford any more kid gloves treatment with the boy. Not when it ends up you getting hurt like this."

Tracing calloused fingers over his son's lax ones he whispered determinedly, "I know I don't explain myself well at times, and you may not think much of me as a dad, but that's what I am son no matter what. I just want to keep you both safe, protected against the things we hunt."

John paused and felt a little foolish for saying his thoughts out loud like this. He knew the doctors were keeping Dean in an enforced coma but quite simply he needed this chance to explain himself to his son without the drama of last week's confrontation.

Finding his voice again he continued, "You see son it just kills me to see you like this knowing that if I had taken charge again none of this would have happened. But I stupidly let my guilt, your anger, blind me to the dangers out there with that brother of yours. He needs control, discipline and a firm hand. He'll be happier for it in the end Dean, you'll see."

With a weary sigh John added, "Its time to knock away all those soft childish edges and get those daydreams Sammy seems to live by out of his head once and for all."

Dean's lids seemed to flutter slightly, perhaps in argument at his words, but John dared to hope that his boy was starting to wake up, despite what the doctors had indicated.

All he knew is that he needed his son awake. He needed his oldest boy well and back by his side again in support as he didn't think he could deal with Sam without him and keep the right balance.

What he didn't need right now was his phone vibrating in his shirt pocket again. It had been vibrating in increasing frequency since last night and he knew without having to look who the caller was. Scrubbing a shaky hand over his face he finally gave in when Dean failed to wake and he answered gruffly, "Hey Joshua…you called."

"Yeah, that and the dozen other times," snapped back Joshua clearly beyond annoyed. If it hadn't been for Birdy he would have been totally in the dark about the older boy's recovery but he still found himself asking, "So how's Dean doing?"

John responded with a half smile, "They say he's doing good, better than expected with no complications. I'm hoping they'll wean him off the meds today and he'll wake up sometime soon."

Joshua face broke into a wide grin of relief, "Good, I'll bring Sam back then, he needs to see this for himself."

"No, man, keep him with you for a little longer," begged John his face mirroring his disquiet at his friend's intent.

Shocked Joshua's grin vanished to be replaced by a disapproving frown, "I did what you wanted and took Sam away even when I thought you were wrong John. Its not natural pushing the kid away like this."

"No Josh just do as I say, another day is what I need," John swallowed hard at the thought of having to face his youngest boy again and not want to throttle him.

"That's not fair, John."

His voice choked up with emotion as John admitted, "Fair or not its how I feel. I'll sort the boy out when I know Dean is going to be okay. No sooner."

A small alarm trilling on one of the monitors brought the oldest Winchester back on his feet, his face paling with fear.

"John's what's happening there?" asked Joshua in concern as he listened to the shrill alarm in the background.

A nurse rushed in and within seconds the alarm was reset and she gave John an apologetic grin, "Nothing to be worried about, just one of the sensors slipped sir."

Watching the nurse leave John whispered his relief, "Its okay. My boy's fine, it was just a glitch with one of the machines."

"Good, but about Sam, let me bring him back Johnny."

Standing at the foot of the bed John looked at Dean and the ice settled around his heart again, "If you want what's best for the boy keep him with you, as I just can't trust myself around him right now."

Sourly Joshua was forced to agree, "I get it, not that I like it, not one little bit. This is just being plain cruel to the kid and don't try and sugar coat it as being for his benefit."

John knew that in part the man was right but his heart ruled his head right now and he found himself admitting, "Maybe when Dean wakes up and I'm still not so angry about what happened - maybe then I won't want to tear strips from him."

Joshua's patience snapped and he snarled back, "Yeah big fat bunch of maybes going on in you head again! You're just punishing the boy for our mistakes Johnny and you know it."

"Don't you dare say that, as I didn't put my oldest in a hospital bed, neither did you, his brother has that dubious distinction all on his own," snapped back John hotly.

Joshua felt physically sick at the man's hard words. "You really think that? Because god help the kid if really you do."

Battling back his inner demon John confessed, "You heard what he said, he damn well called up a spirit, near got Dean killed because of it."

"Something fugly hurt your boy, not Sam. You know the kid would sooner die a hundred deaths than cause harm to his brother. He near hero worships him for god sake," growled back Joshua.

"Some sort of hero worship when he let a freaking spirit play smash and grab with his brother's head," snapped back John.

Joshua's voice went dangerously flat as he asked, "You in all your accusations ever thought how your Sam knew this spirit?"

"You've been with him since last night, you not managed to worm that juicy titbit out of him yet?" snapped back John sarcastically.

There was short pause before Josh answered, "Funny thing but your boy's not really functioning all that good at the moment if you get my drift. You kicking him to the kerb really did a number on him. Father of the year you ain't."

A flicker of parental anger made John's voice harsh, "Goddamit man, you're letting that boy control things again with the pity card. It's about time he learnt that his priorities should be family first and himself second.."

Joshua short fused temper was well and truly lit as he spat back, "You're an ass Winchester if you think Sam doesn't have his family has his main priority. Just a fucking pity you don't feel the same at times."

John wilted slightly under Joshua's scoring words, "That's a lie. You know I'd do anything for my boys."

"Then show it to Sam because the fool kid needs you, needs his dad and not some dumb jock hunter like myself who doesn't know what the hell to do to help him here."

His mind doing cartwheels John dared too think out loud, " Just give him something to focus on man. Get him to cough up what he knows about this fugly and you might get him to earn some self respect back here."

Stuttering out his disbelief Joshua responded, "You want the kid to go hunt a freaking spirit whilst his brother's lying comatose in a hospital bed and he can barely function with worry?"

"No I expect you to do that," snapped back John his own temper rising again at having his parenting questioned again, "Just get him to spit out the truth about this damn spirit before I have to come back and shake it out of him."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Sam had woken up musty head from the sedation Joshua had forced down him last night with his slim frame aching as he felt the first hint of a cold or worse taking hold.

As he went to haul himself up the pull of stitches on his knuckles reminded him of the damage he had done last night and groaned out loud in disbelief. His dad would have a field day with this he thought bitterly as he rubbed at the tender spot on his right hand.

As he fingered the bandage he tilted his head towards the door as Joshua's deep voice seeped past the wooden barrier and he guessed that's what had drawn him awake. His heart beat a thump in his chest as he heard his father's name and that pulled him to his feet anxious to have news of his brother. Hurriedly he made his way to the living room only to pull up short at the end of the hallway as he took onboard the one sided conversation.

The numbness of last night evaporated as he realised that his dad still didn't want him back, wanted him in fact nowhere near his brother till he'd cleaned up the mess with Matt. Blinking back the sting of tears he watched as Joshua's face betrayed his own conflict with his dad as he wheedled, cajoled and then finally pushed too far let rip his own thoughts.

When the line went dead Joshua had spat out a few choice curse words only to freeze on seeing Sam's gaunt reflection on the face of his phone. Spinning around to face him he gasped out, "Shit kid give me a heart attack why don't you!"

Joshua had tried to mask his anger with the boy's dad with a sloppy grin only for it to fade on really taking in the kid's appearance. Even after a drug induced sleep the dark smudges under his eyes seemed a shade deeper than yesterday and his pallor was a chalky white. "So as you might have already guess that was your dad and the news is that your brother is doing good!"

Sam wanted to speak but words failed him and he mutely nodded his understanding, his heart thudding loud in his chest still absorbing the fact that his dad intended to keep the exclusion zone up around his brother.

Worried at his reaction Joshua added in concern, "You still look like crap kiddo so why don't you go back to bed."

Sam for the first time since the accident looked directly at Joshua, his eyes hollow as he whispered out sadly, "He still doesn't want me there, does he?"

"Sam your dad…." Joshua realised that the boy already had worked out the answer and gave up any pretence of a lie, "No. He thinks it best you stay here today. Maybe tomorrow, when your brother wakes up."

Sam's expression remained schooled as he gave a slight nod of understanding before heading back to his room, leaving Joshua to blink hard after him knowing he had neither the way with words or empathy needed to reach out to him and help ease his pain.

With John's demands still echoing in his head he knew that getting Sam to deal with his dad's rejection and then get him to talk about the spirit was going to be as much fun as drawing teeth without the luxury of anaesthesia.

"Winchester you're a first class bastard dumping this on me," he muttered under his breath as he found the courage to go after Sam. He knocked once but when there was no answer he pushed open the door he find the teenager sitting on the bed, knees drawn up to support his chin, face hidden by the long hang of dark hair.

He drew up besides him and his unwillingness to blindly follow John's directions kicked back in, "Look Sam I ain't above butting head with your dad's thick skull especially when I think he's being a first class prick. So I say go screw him and lets get you back to the hospital. Back to Dean, what ya say kiddo?"

Sam shook his head eyes focused on the telling red stains under his fingernails that not even a shower had shifted, "No, he's right I'm shouldn't be there. Done enough damage as it is - don't want to cause any more."

Masking his surprise Joshua tried to offer his support, "Come on Sam you never meant for your brother to get hurt."

His voice tinged in weary resignation Sam confessed, "Don't matter what I meant, dad only sees the end results. I screw up and Dean gets hurt. That's all he needs to know."

Joshua shook his head in a futile denial, "Ah kid he just needs time to get his head around things. You sort of rocked him big time with your confession about a spirit being involved. It's not an easy thing for a man like your dad to accept or get past."

Softly Sam agreed, a tight mocking smile stretching his gaunt features, "Yeah I know. Way to make him real proud that I'm his son."

Recalling John's demands to get information on the spirit Joshua chewed on his bottom lip before daring to ask, "Look Sam despite what you might think your dad loves you. In fact he asked me for your help."

Sam darted a look of disbelief at him, "You're a terrible liar Joshua."

Choosing to ignore the dig just glad that finally the kid seemed to be opening up Joshua continued, "He wants you to tell me about this thing that hurt Dean so that I can put a stop to it."

When Sam didn't respond Joshua found himself asking a little harder, "You have to clue me in here. How did you know it was there Sam?"

Sam's head dropped back to his knees knowing that Joshua was right, that he needed to tell all about Matt. Weak voice he admitted, "I…I didn't remember him, not really, not till I saw those photos…"

He squeezed his eyes shut trying to block the sick reminders of what he had found in Joshua's car and he bitterly asked, "Why couldn't it just have been a dream Josh? Why did he have to be real and hurt my brother?"

Joshua rocked on his heals, realising that his mistakes had set up yesterdays series of events, "God Sam I'm so sorry. You were never meant to see that stuff. Not any of it."

"All the sick things he did, it wasn't right, he should have been stopped," whispered Sam brokenly, "Burnett was a monster and no one cared to notice, they just let him carry on hurting kids like Matt." _Like me._

"Matt? Ah hell kid, you telling me this spirit was one of that bastard's victims?"

Sam shivered at the memory and curled his arms tighter round his legs, "When I saw his photo I felt sucker punched, that he's been lingering all these years thinking he's going home, back to his family. How could I not try and help him Joshua?"

Fighting the urge to draw the boy to Joshua held back having learnt from past experience not to crowd him when he was upset, "Wanting to help him I can understand but what I still don't get is how you knew about him in the first place Sammy?"

Sam shrugged again, the ticklish cough at the back of his throat winning for a few seconds before he finally confessed, "Matt helped me when I got sick, took me back to the road that night. I guess I was just too out of it to notice what he was."

"You were ill Sam, no surprise there."

Taking in long juddering breath Sam admitted, "Dad doesn't do excuses. Its not how he's trained us and he sure as hell won't understand that I just wanted to help Matt like he helped me. That I never dreamt that Dean would get hurt like that…."

Joshua dared to put a hand on his shoulder and wondered just how the hell he had let any of this happen, "We'll get this sorted. I'm gonna call your dad, tell him what you've just told me and things will be okay. I promise."

A glint of hope lit up Sam's eyes as he asked, "You think he'll want me to come back then? That he'll think me safe to be around my brother again?"

"I'm sure he will kid. Let me just speak to him first." He pulled out his phone and waited for John to pick up only for it to go to voicemail. Feeling Sam's desperate eyes on him he quickly left a detailed message and then threw a watery smile down at Sam. "You know my offer of taking you back to the hospital still stands."

Shaking his head Sam looked away, blinking back the burn of tears. "No he'll go nuclear if I just turn up when he's given an order for me to stay away. Won't do Dean any good to wake up to that sort of fallout."

"You sure kiddo? I can deflect most of the heat away from that hot-headed dad of yours." When Sam didn't respond Joshua added, "Besides it might be good to let Bird have a look at you. You're cough's playing you up again and he might want to check on my stitches."

"I'm fine, the hand is fine," murmured Sam, his cheek pressing down on the top of his knees as he closed his eyes, feeling the chills running through him despite his words.

With a soft grunt of disbelief Joshua watched Sam roll onto his side in an effort to shut him out again, "Yeah sure your fine and I'm the freaking Sugar Plum Fairy. I not gonna watch you undo all Birdy's and your brother's hard work and let you fall sick again."

A few minutes later Sam glowered weakly up at him but was forced to take a new lot of medication, left behind by Bird as a precaution. When Joshua was satisfied he had done all he could for now he commanded, "Get some shut eye, I'll fill you in later after I've spoken with your dad."

The fact that his dad was ignoring their calls seemed an indictment to how he felt about him and Sam felt too raw to want to deal with the real world just now, the appeal of sleep too strong.

Yawning he asked, "You'll wake me if there's news on my brother?" When Joshua nodded Sam adding with a hint of hope to his voice, "If I can sort out Matt's spirit, clean up the mess, do you really think dad will let me see Dean again?"

"I'm sure that after I've had a chat with your dad you'll be back by your brother's side in no time. And as for this Matt you stop your worrying about him and leave it to me. That's what I'm here for after all."

Joshua's optimism that he could set the world right again for the youngest Winchester faded by the next morning as John had failed to respond to any of the ever terser and bitter messages he left on his phone. His frustration and anxiety growing as Sam's dry cough had turned into something wetter and more troublesome, he finally gave into his worry and rang a familiar name, "Hey Bird sorry about the early wake up call but I need your help. Again."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

As he tried to get comfortable again in the moulded plastic seat John set aside the now lukewarm coffee and cradled his nodding head in his hands. It was late afternoon and he was so bone weary tired that he longed for sleep, but the act would only leave to more dreams, more worrying thoughts, and he resisted the pull.

A feint gasp brought him instantly upright and he looked across at Dean to see him struggling to open heavy lidded eyes. "Hey son, take it easy."

For a long few seconds Dean's eyes flickered unfocused before his gaze settled on the solid figure of the man in front of him. His voice sound weak and raspy to his ears as he asked, "Dad?

John reached across and stroked his brow, "Yeah son, its me. You're going to be okay. You hear me?"

"Dad….what happened,? whispered Dean groggily again, eyes searching the room for another familiar face only to frown on not finding his brother. "Where's Sammy?"

"You had an accident. Hit your head and you've been out of it for a while son."

Frowning Dean gingerly felt his head, fingers lingering on the bandage swaddling his skull, "Accident?" Confused he looked back at his dad a knot of fear in his throat as he asked again about his brother, "Sammy?"

"He's fine Dean. I sent him home with Joshua. No use as all waiting here for you to wake up sleepy head…."

Dean took a long breath as his fear for his brother lifted but his confusion still furrowed his brow and he hissed out, "Josh? He's here?"

"Yeah son, don't you remember?"

Dean looked at him clearly puzzled as he battled for any coherent thought, "No… I'm not sure, things seem really whacked. Last thing I remember is you finding out about Sam's surfing exploits." He grinned sheepishly before asking, "Why does my freaking head feeling like a tonne weight?"

"You went headfirst into a tree son," confessed John with a small shudder. "And the tree won."

"A tree? No way…."

John threw him a weak smile, "You just rest up now. You'll have plenty of time to ask all that pesky Q & A stuff later. Things will become clearer and you'll remember what happened better then."

Dean gave a minuscule nod and John watched with a mixture of relief and despair as his son lost the battle to stay awake and his eyes fluttered shut again.

Hal Birdstrom watched as John sat silently by his oldest son's bedside and wondered at how he could show such devotion to one son and totally ignore the other. After taking the latest call from Joshua he knew he had to take the bull by the horn and get the man to see sense here. "John, if you can spare me a few minutes I need to speak to you."

John reluctantly got up as Bird beckoned him to meet him outside of the room and whispered his departure to his sleeping son, "I'll be back Dean."

On exiting the room his wide grin of relief lit up his face as he looked down at Hal, "You see that? My boy is going to be okay."

"Which one?" snapped back Hal any diplomacy lost as he thought on Joshua's last rant down the line to him.

"What do you mean which one? Dean of course. What's wrong with you man?"

"I could ask the same of you."

Realising what the doctor was really asking John sourly spat back, "He's okay."

"He? Oh you mean Sam don't you? And you know that howYou even ring to check on that John?" When he saw the stubborn set of the man's jaw he had his answer.

Hal hated to raise his voice in such an open setting and despite the difference in height steered John purposely into an empty side room, "I had a call from Jay this morning before I got caught up in an four car pile up that came into the ER and the thing is he wants to bring Sam into the hospital."

"I told him not too," warned John deliberately ignoring the doctor's confused look. "I need another day to make sure that Dean is really going to be okay."

"You really don't have a day to spare from what Jay's told me as it sounds like Sam has slipped backwards. I'd go and check him myself but I'm still on call for another twenty four hours and my head of department would can my ass so fast if I took off again so soon after my last little series of disappearances."

Gruffly John pushed past Hal burying his guilt for neglecting his youngest with sharp words, "Joshua has the medicines he needs, it's Dean that needs me now."

Hal shook his head, wanting desperately to shake the stubbornness out the man, "You know Winchester when I first met you I thought you one hard nosed son of a bitch but then I saw you with Sam and I would have bet my life that you would have done anything for that kid, guess I saw it all wrong. Not when you can play favorites so easily."

Stunned at the implications behind the doctor's words John stilled and poured all his energy into words of denial, "_Favorites_? There is no such thing as favorites when it comes to my kids, only who needs me the most. And that's Dean right now."

"Yeah, must be quite a gift to be able to quota out the fatherly need as you see fit. Would really like to know how that feels…how wonderfully an enriching experiences it must be for you, for your boys."

Blinking back his hurt John tried to justify his actions, "Sam almost got this brother killed, so forgive me if I'm a little short on fatherly concern for anything but Dean right now."

"Yeah maybe your right. You go back to Dean. I'll arrange admission for your other son on the Paediatric floor…" He turned to walk away but a hard hand snaked him around and he was forced to swallow down a yip of alarm as John Winchester's dark eyes threatened violence.

"Why the hell would I allow you to do that?"

Struggling out of the bigger man's grip Hal spat back, "You really forgotten how scary sick Sam was just a while back? You don't mess around with something like pneumonia, it's can be a killer in the healthiest of people and I sure as hell wont let you take that risk with that young boy's life again."

"So its telephone diagnosis now is it?" huffed back John in open disbelief, "Josh panics and you get your medical panties in a bunch."

"Pot calling kettle black considering you've not even bothered speaking to Sam or Jay to find out."

Beating back a headache John rubbed his forehead, taking onboard the implications behind Hal's harsh words before pulling his cell out of his shirt pocket. He had expected Josh to answer and was taken back when it was Sam and he found himself blurting out a little too roughly, "What's this I hear about you being sick again?"

Horrified at what might be perceived by his dad as another failure on his part Sam came back in denial, "No sir. I'm fine."

"Josh has got Bird convinced that you're coming down with something. Or are you just trying to put another one past the man?"

Wiping a cuff across his perspiring top lip Sam shook his head in denial, repeating himself again, holding back a cough, "No sir."

"Good… cos last thing we need is to be babying you again. Got to think on your brother, get him well again. He's the main priority here and don't you dare forget it."

John flinched despite himself when he heard Hal's grunt of disapproval and his son's flat 'Yes sir' in response and he found himself asking. "So where's Josh? He out sorting out that mess you stirred up?"

"No sir, he's sleeping…." Sam sat down as his unsteady legs were threatening to give up on him and he dared to ask. "How's Dean?"

"You'll be pleased to hear that he came too up a little while ago and fortunately for you he doesn't remember yet what you did."

"I'm sorry…." stuttered back, Sam, unable to keep the tremor out of his voice.

"Sorry enough to get your mistakes sorted before I have to tell your brother exactly what happened?"

Through clenched teeth Sam and fighting back tears he replied, "Yes Sir." before daring to ask, "When I do can I see Dean… tell him how sorry I am... please?"

Ignoring the pleading quality to his son's voice John snapped back, "We'll see. Now just go get your sorry ass into gear, wake up Josh and let me have a little chat with the freaking drama queen."

Getting back on his feet Sam got to his dad's bedroom as quick as he could and with a shaky hand managed to waken the heavily sleeping hunter. "Josh its dad he wants to speak to you."

Gingerly Sam handed the phone over to the still half asleep man and not willing to listen into another tongue lashing made his exit, his dad's hard command still ringing in his ears.

Groggily Joshua grunted down the phone, "What?"

John unable to keep the irritation out of his voice he barked back, "Don't you 'what' me you old bastard - just start spilling on all this crap you've been feeding Bird."

Ignoring the bluntness of John's demand Joshua yawned wide, "You might want to ask me just a little nicer dude or I might just hang up and make you stew like you've been making me do."

John took a steadying breath, "You think it funny having Bird bend my ear about you wanting to bring Sam into the hospital for a check up only for my son to tell me he's perfectly fine."

"Yeah I imagine the fool kid would say that," drawled back Josh as he rubbed the grit from his tired eyes. After managing only a few hours sleep he really needed a strong coffee to wake him up but that meant having to get up and trot to the kitchen to brew up a fresh batch. Instead he let his head fall back on the pillow and he groaned out loud, "You didn't hear him hacking up a lung last night like I did."

"He really that bad?" John asked a little incredulous having only spoken to his youngest boy only a minute ago and not guessing at anything wrong with him other than a hint of shame and guilt over Dean.

Sizzling with anger the realisation hit Joshua hard that all his calls had been ignored and he sat back up in a rush, "Jesus H Christ man you really haven't listened to one fucking message I left you. I can't believe you man."

Defensively John tried to deflect his friend's anger, "My mind has been elsewhere. Son with a skull fracture and freaking spirit on the loose, go figure. Last thing I expected was Sam to play up too…"

"Yeah I suppose smashing your fist into a mirror is playing up a tad. But then to your warped thinking I guess you'll be mighty proud as he took out that mirror in one punch, smashed it to smithereens, then didn't wince once when I put the stitches in afterwards."

"He did what? Why? Why the hell didn't you tell me?" John asked as he cast a furtive glance over to Birdstrom and the truth sunk at seeing his accusing stare.

Not in the mood to keep his words anything but acidic Joshua spat back, "You best remember that you're the jerk that hung up on me before I could tell you any of this and you're still that same jerk whose ignored my messages ever since."

Shaking his head in denial John muttered back, "I bet it was just a cry for attention, to deflect attention away from his brother."

"You really think that? You think it normal for me to force a cocktail of drugs and sedation down a fifteen year old boy's throat because I'm terrified of him doing something reckless. The boy is near enough to falling apart and like always you just don't see it."

"He wouldn't do anything stupid," spat John hotly in denial though his palms felt suddenly wet with sweat, "He just wouldn't…."

"Why because he's a Winchester? You send him away telling him he's not good enough to carry that name, not good enough to be there for his brother, and you have the nerve to tell me where his head should be at and not be scared for him?"

Quelling his own inner despair at the raw honesty behind his friend's words John took in a long breath before responding, "I should speak with him and get this sorted out before he sees his brother again. This hurting himself…its not good."

"Nothing compared to what he's internalised with this whole sorry business with this spirit and his brother," advised Joshua candidly. "Worse than that is that Sam overheard our last little chat and now truly believes that your right, that he doesn't deserve to be anywhere near his brother."

A father too tired to argue further John simply asked, "Can I dare to ask if you found out from Sam what this thing was then?"

"Ask and you will receive and I hope you freaking choke on it you bastard." huffed out Joshua still annoyed that all his messages had been ignored, "The spirit that attacked Dean was a seventeen year old kid called Matt Merton, found dead in a ditch with a bullet hole to the back of his head five years back. Courtesy of your good friend Burnett."

John's knees wobbled and he sank onto a chair, the blood draining from his face, "Burnett? How do you know that?"

"The photos. Sam found the pictures of the kid in one those boxes in my trunk and that's why he took off. From what little I've gotten out of your boy it was Merton's guiding spirit that got him home the night when he got real sick. Your boy was just trying to repay a debt is all."

"Why didn't he tell me any of this?" demanded John before groaning out loud realising that he had never given Sam the chance and found himself defending himself, "Still doesn't explain how my oldest ends up in ICU does it?"

"As I understand it Dean misread the situation when he saw Sam with the ghost, got over protective and Merton in his own twisted way thought he was stopping Sam from getting hurt. Go figure."

Feeling physically sick John recalled his conversation only minutes early urging Sam to get his 'mess sorted out' and the need to speak to his youngest grew too strong to ignore, "I've mega fucked up again haven't I? I best talk to my boy again. Put things right if I can."

"Ya think?" Grumbling in half complete profanities Joshua eased his long frame out bed and headed for Sam's room to hand back the phone.

John heard him walk heavy footed on the wooden floor, the squeak of rusty hinges as a door was pushed open and his heart stilled at hearing the low rumble of surprise come down the line when Joshua found the room empty.

"Sam?" Joshua called out already halfway to the living room.

"What's happening man?" shouted John down the line.

"What the hell did you say to him John?" demanded Joshua as he came to the horrible realisation that Sam was no longer in the cabin.

"Earlier? Not much, I asked if he was sick, asked if he had gotten things sorted out…." John's voice stalled at the memory of his hard edged confrontational talk with his son, "Oh shit man I told him he needed to get the spirit sorted out and ..."

"And what?" Josh felt fear tingle down his spine waiting on John's answer.

"Sam asked if he could see his brother if he did."

"Brilliant. Just fucking brilliant. Sam's gone off to play good little soldier boy to please his tinpot tyrant of dad and deal with Merton all on his own. Way to make yourself feel fucking proud Winchester.!"

John stood up abruptly and brushed by a concerned Hal and started in run towards the elevator, "Stop him Joshua. You know whatever this kid Merton might have been in the past he's now one hell of an angry spirit. Sam's not safe out there with him alone….what the hell was I thinking goading him on like that?"

Joshua had already shrugged on his jacket and was pulling on his boot when he hissed his concern. "Yeah now you put your brain into gear! You just best get your sorry butt back here because I'm gonna need help in tracking the kid's skinny ass if the snow flurry outside is anything to go by."

"I'm on my way back," huffed back John, ignoring the elevator for the stairs in his haste. "He couldn't have got far, right?"

"You know your boy well enough to know that when he sets his mind to do something nothing but nothing stops him." Joshua pulled his rucksack onto his shoulders and went to hang up, his final words a warning, "Best hurry man as the sun's setting and your boy is out there running on empty with absolutely nothing in reserve."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Sam halted in the dim light by the lake's edge blinking away the soft flakes of snow falling into his eyes. As he looked around the area was pristine once again, his brother's blood hidden under a fresh blanket of white.

He knew what he was supposed to do but his voice betrayed his nerves as he called out, " "Matt. You still here?"

"Still here. Always here Sam."

Scalp tingling Sam slowly turned around to see the spirit of Matt Merton flickering in front of him. The grey apparition's dark eyes stared at him with something akin to longing but he found the courage to say, "Matt…despite what happened, with my brother, I still want to help you. You know you have to move on. Right?"

"I don't think so," warned the spirit, his edginess reflected in the flinty glint in his dead eyes. "My family needs me."

"They don't need your help, not anymore, they've moved on since you died and you need to let go now," blurted back Sam.

"No…I won't leave them. My brothers and sisters need to be protected." hissed the ghost.

"If you stay you'll end up hurting them just like you hurt my brother. I know you won't mean to but you will. Your not safe to be around them anymore."

"My dad would skin my behind if I did that," snorted back Matt in disbelief, coalescing into a more solid form as he leant against a tree. "With your brother ….Dean….you know I didn't mean to hurt him."

"But you did, and you know the truth now, that you can't control this rage anymore inside of you." Desperately trying to reach the ghost Sam added, "What Burnett did to you I wish I could take away, but your letting him win each and every day you stay if you don't find some kind of peace Matt"

"Peace?" Matt shook his head in denial, "How can I get that if I have to leave my family unprotected. You say Burnett is gone but there's others just as bad out there…."

"You can't help them anymore, you'll only scare them. Believe me, I know this."

"Scare them…am I really so terrible now?"

"If you stay it will only get worse. Let go here please Matt. Find that peace before others come and make you go. They'll dig up your grave, burn your bones and then you'll be forced out of existence. You really want that?"

"You'd let them dig up my grave and do that to my body?" gasped back Matt, black orbs glittering dangerously again. "You know how much that would hurt my mom and dad to find me like that?"

Sam unable to hide his own misery at the situation nodded sadly, "I couldn't stop it even if I wanted to Matt. My dad knows what you are and he's as pissed at hell with us both right now. He won't care what happened to you or that you think you need to stay for your family. To him you're just something that hurt my brother, something to hunt and to be got rid off."

Feeling the deepening chill in the air wrap around him Sam knew that his words were not being well received, but when the ghost suddenly got up close and personal and wailed a high pitched scream into his face he fell backwards crying out, "Matt… don't do this."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

_A.N. Despite my best intentions to end it here those pesky Winchester men have so much emotional baggage hanging around their necks that to force a rushed ending would have left me feeling very unsatisfied and maybe you guys feeling just a little cheated at a rather skimpy conclusion – Speaking of which I hopefully will have fattened and fluffed up enough to post this coming weekend. Rozzy._


	17. Chapter 17

_Usual disclaimers apply as well as all stupid mistakes including all those literal, grammatical and those just plain screwy what 'the hell 'did she just write' pen strokes that happen along the way. So seriously I am an elastic band gone bust here as RL became more than a major bitch, taking with it my ability to say my thanks to all those delicious reviews and major PM nudges. And yes despite my slow response don't ever feel that I don't treasure any review, or those most welcome PM that keep nudging me along, because I do. Another thing, I know promised that this would be my last chapter but this was scuppered by my inability to put those Winchester voices pinging around in my head to rest - and so spawned this extremely too long chapter, before the epilogue to follow.. Rozzy._

* * *

**Growing Pains – Chapter 17: Psychoanalyst 101 and Superglue **

"_I'm on my way back," huffed back John, ignoring the elevator for the stairs in his haste. "He couldn't have got far, right?"_

"_You know your boy well enough to know that when he sets his mind to do something nothing but nothing stops him." Joshua pulled his rucksack onto his shoulders and went to hang up, his final words a warning, "Best hurry man as the sun's setting and your boy is out there running on empty with absolutely nothing in reserve._

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

The tremors threatening to steal the strength from his hands was only kept under control by gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were a bloodless white. The fact that Joshua had sounded scared before he hung up only served to increase his speed on a road where the driving conditions had become dangerous.

The snow was coming down in soft heavy splatters leaving the windscreen wipers struggling to clear a viewable path, making visibility dangerous and upping up the level of fear for missing child. His boy was out there in this less than savoury weather.

'You idiot,' he spat out under his breath as he tried desperately to claw back the miles between him and his son. "You knew better, always, with Sam…always so goddam sensitive.'

He drew up a spot of blood on his bottom lip as he chewed away the top layer off skin recalling his son's broken acceptance of being sent away. Any father worth his salt would have felt the first niggling disquiet of guilt at watching a child of their shutting down like that. Again John spat out his own self loathing, "But no, not you. Gotta go for the kill each time, no matter what damage it does."

Now the guilt driving a hard beat in his chest mutating into full-blown panic. As he navigated a too fast path down the near deserted highway he could admit to himself that only his boys could get past his hard-as-steel persona and strip him of control like this.

With his lips moving in a silent prayer John turned the final corner on the approach up to the cabin. His thoughts centred on the hope that this time out he would be the one to find his boy and attempt to make things right with him. He had let Jim and his oldest boy take control last time out after Burnett, letting them shoulder him aside, but now he wanted this one chance to make things right with his boy. He wanted back that unconditional trust that his youngest had shown to him all those many years ago when he jumped fifteen feet off a stack of shelves into his arms without any hesitation or doubt that he would catch him.

"Oh god son, when did I let your faith in me slip through my fingers?"

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

"Matt, No!" cried out Sam in alarm as he felt the air being squeezed out of his already struggling lungs, an invisible force wrapping around his rib cage and sucking the air out of him.

His plea was met with only a cold snarl and then he felt himself lifted bodily off the ground to fly backwards.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation of his unnatural flight stopping in a none too pleasant manner. It did when he impacted with the frozen edge of the lake and his lanky frame skidded a few yards further out on to the hard surface, pushing a ridge of snow up around his now sore head in a welcome pillow of softness.

Stunned Sam lay still, just trying to catch his breath, not knowing what felt worse the threat of new bruising on his back and head or the fact that he had been naïve enough to hope that Matt would listen to him.

For all his years in training as a hunter the child inside took over and he ignored the need to get his stunned ass up again happy to just lie there and suck in oxygen. Idly his fingers dug through the top layer of snow to touch the ice beneath, the burn on contact not registering as he blinked away the fat snowflakes into his eyes.

It wasn't until the chilly grip of dead fingers latching onto his ankle that galvanised any sort of response. Raising his head Sam squinted in the growing darkness, just able to make out a grey hand grasping his leg with the fully formed figure of Matt behind it.

Swallowing back the acid wash of bile in his throat Sam managed to gasp out, "Gonna spew if you keep tossing me around like a freaking rag doll dude."

The ghost looked at him, cocked his head to his side as if studying the prone boy with renewed interest then whispered a warning, "No time for that…."

The intent behind the ghost's words registered with the groan of cracking ice splintering under his weight. 'Oh shit I'm so dead', thought Sam, when the back of his head was framed by a growing puddle of icy water. The contact shocked the air from his lung, as if a thousand volts had been shot through him, but before he could react further Matt's hand tightened on his leg and he was pulled at a dizzying rush back to the shoreline.

When Sam dared to look up next the dipping sun's pale light had lost any pretence of dominance in the grey skies and he could just make out Matt's shadowy form standing by his feet. He was back on the safe side of the lake, but he didn't know whether to be angry or grateful to the spirit for this act.

Instead Sam found himself giggling out loud, thinking on just how much mileage his brother was going to get out of this latest gaff. No Winchester, ever, should have the indignity of being dragged across a frozen lake like a sack of potatoes. Especially not by the spirit they were supposed to be offing.

'Nope', thought Sam, any humour dying on his lips when Matt reappeared almost on top of him again, 'This really wasn't the patented Winchester way of getting rid of a none-too-friendly Casper'.

Squinting up past the falling snow he shook his head and admitted, "Don't quite think I'm living up the family name here dude."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Joshua wove a clumsy path through the dense trees, finding it difficult to find an easy way through the woods in the poor visual conditions. Whatever route Sam had taken was lost to him and he went on gut instinct down to the lake. He knew the boy well enough to figure out that he was aiming for closure here and once again he found himself muttering a curse under his breath with the name John Winchester attached to it.

The large hunter swallowed back his disappointment when he stumbled out into a pristine white clearing that edged the lake, "Damn it kiddo just where the hell are you?"

With the fading light he switched on his torch and started a search of the area, calling out Sam's name every couple of yards with out success. Booted feet crunched on icy ground as he studied the area for signs of the missing teenager and was rewarded when his sharp eyes picked up on a sequence of footprints half hidden under fresh snowfall. Bending down he brushed the loose top layer away and recognised the tread straight away as belonging to the missing boy.

Joshua stood up tall again, absently brushed the snow melting on his cheeks away, and dared to call out again, "Sam, you here son?"

When there was no response he followed the barely visible footprints till he drew up just short of the lake where the trail abruptly ended. Frowning his concern his torch highlighted a ploughed out path on the surface of the lake only for his heart double beat when he caught sight of a break in the ice twenty yards in.

Squinting against the blanket of snow falling into his eyes Joshua couldn't quite make out the size of the hole and fear stabbed through his gut that Sam might have fallen through, "Oh hell no kid don't you dare do this to me."

Without hesitation he strode out onto the fracturing sheet of ice, purposely ignoring the sounds of the cracking surface buckling under his weight. After a few steps his boots broke through the thin barrier and the cold instantly wrapped around his ankles, stinging his flesh and the air turned a darker shade of blue with curse words.

"Shit kid, don't you dare be under the fucking ice playing fish bait," Joshua begged as he cut a path through the slushy ice towards the hole.

By the time he got close to let his torch illuminate the holes edges his teeth were chattering uncontrollably. A half strangled laugh of relief managed to get past the clacking of his teeth when he realised that the break in the ice was too small for the lanky teenager to have gone through, and despite his continued exposure to the freezing water his breathing eased up as the immediate fear of losing Sam left him.

"Sammy, kid, if I lose my toes to freaking frostbite I'm so gonna tan your sorry hide when your well enough to take a licking," Joshua muttered in relief as he waded back to the shoreline.

Once back on solid ground Joshua clamped his jaw shut, refusing to let his little trip in the lake slow down his search for Sam. Vigorously he stamped out the numbness in his legs and once again started to scour the ground round the lake edge for any other signs of the missing boy. Puzzled he could see what appeared to be drag marks mere yards from the lake only for the disruption to end, replaced by virgin snow and he was forced to ask, "Where'd the hell ya go Sammy boy?"

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Sam didn't know if he had been stupid enough to pass out but next when he opened his eyes the view of the sky from the lake was gone, replaced by a heavy overhang of branches that acted as an umbrella of protection from the weather but left him in semi-darkness.

Gingerly he lifted a hand to the back of his head to feel a growing bump and guessed it was the reason for the ongoing thump of a headache. The temptation to just lie there and fall back asleep was great but a shadow passed in front of him and he instinctively turned to face it, a small groan escaping as his head protested.

The shadow solidified then growled out a question, "Why did you have to make me so mad kid? Why?"

Despite the discomfort it brought Sam forced himself back onto his knees, wheezing roughly as his lungs protested but he had a question of his own he needed to voice, "Is this what you want to be now Matt? You willing to risk one day hurting your own brothers if they say the wrong thing, just like you did mine?"

"No, no I wouldn't," hissed back the spirit in a flat denial.

The ghost eyes were dangerously bright as a war of emotions raged inside him. After all the boy had provoked him, telling him of all the awful things they would do to his body knowing how it would upset his dad and mom. And yet despite that _he _had saved him from going through the ice. That had to mean something, didn't it? That he still had a purpose here.

For Sam there was only one certain truth to be told and despite knowing how dangerous a trigger it could be to the ghost answered honestly, "I'm sorry but you would and deep down you know I'm right. You're a ticking time bomb of anger and hate and next time you explode it could be someone you love that ends up in a hospital bed or worse."

"Don't you dare say that, I'd never do that," screamed the spirit coalescing darkly in front of Sam. "I'll kill you if you say it again."

Sam gave small snort of defiance but had little left in him to resist when icy fingers grabbed at his collar to send him sprawling face down into the snow. Ice crystals dug into his skin, clogging airways, and he spluttered out a mouthful of snow before lifting his head up to stare grimly back at his assailant.

The fall had more than bruised his face and the bitter taste of copper sliding down his throat caused another coughing fit and he spluttered out a frothy mixture of phlegm and blood, speckling the snow at this feet a dark shade of pink.

When he was able to breathe again he drew his aching body upright to stand tall to face Matt once more, wiping with the palm of his hand the stringy bloody mucous from his mouth and chin. Studying the ghost Sam shook his head; sending a spray of icy droplets through the air and met his threat with a bitter edge to his voice, "Kill me? Yeah, well the truth is its not going to pleasant when my dad gets hold of me and skins me alive…you doing it first might be the better option here."

Stepping away from Sam the essence of what was left of Matt Merton saw the slow drip of blood travel over warm lips with a small flutter of disquiet. The red stains were of his making and appalled he looked at his hands and wondered at how quickly they now turned to violence.

The damaged boy in front of him offered up words of warning that no longer could be ignored and eyes awash with tears Matt admitted, "All I've ever wanted was to protect my family but I'm stuck here and it's not fair. None of this is. I just want to go home."

Sam nodded his understanding tiredly drawing a cuff across his face, smearing the bloody mix high across his cheekbone and whispered back brokenly, feeling the separation from his own brother deeply again, "I know. I really do."

"You can't, not when you have your family to go back to," hissed back Merton in clear annoyance.

Fighting back his own sting of tears Sam confessed, "Nah, not really, not when I know my dad hates my guts and thinks me too reckless to be around my brother. There's no warm welcome waiting for me when I return…"

Matt shifted uncomfortably again not wanting to hear or feel the boy's obvious pain but Sam continued, "And its all because I let that bastard Burnett happen, let you hurt my brother. Then when my dad gave me this one chance to sort things out I mess up again."

"Sort _me_ out you mean, right?" queried Matt sharply not liking the implication behind Sam's honest statement.

Sam's chest ached as he fought down another coughing fit and he slowly slumped back down on the ground using a tree trunk for support before he dared answer, "Its what he expects. I'm supposed to be able to clean up after my own mistakes."

"But you didn't do anything dude. I did. Angry spirit remember?" laughed Matt without a trace of humour in his voice or in his unnaturally dark eyes.

Shaking his head Sam's thoughts centred on how bitterly disappointed his father was with him again, "There are no excuses with someone like my dad. Getting my brother put into ITU is just one mistake too many for him to swallow."

Merton frowned, trying desperately to remember having such a negative relationship with his own dad and recalling none, "Gotta say kid your old man sounds like a hard person to like or love."

Sam paused in thought before giving a soft shake of his head, "I suppose, but he's like that for a reason and I… well…."

When Sam didn't carry on Merton added, "Guess despite everything he's still your dad. Gotta love him no matter what."

"Something like that," confessed Sam sadly wishing it didn't seem so one sided at times.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Joshua jumped slightly when his phone rang echoing loud in the open surroundings. His eyes narrowed on seeing the caller and he barked out, "Yeah?"

"You got him?" demanded John, struggling to keep his voice neutral as he parked up outside the cabin.

"Nope, not yet," muttered Joshua as he continued to trudge through the snow in search of any signs of his missing charge.

It was not what John needed to hear and he spat back, "What the hell you've been doing man. Just how hard is it to track my boy down?"

"Oh I don't know, why don't you get your sorry ass down here and see how it feels to take a fucking dip in icy waters and then go chasing after vanishing footprints."

"Josh…" struggled back John trying to keep his temper in check, "Look just tell me where you are?"

"By the lake. It looks like Sam came down here but its weird because dude I've got footprints that just stop in mid track. It's like your boy just upped and spirited himself away without a trace and now I've got diddly squat to go on."

"Its never simple with that boy," groaned back John as he took up his backpack and started in a run towards the lake. Then he gasped out in horror on taking onboard Joshua's throwaway remark about taking an icy dip, "God… you checked the lake?"

"Yeah, don't worry he didn't go in. But I'm thinking something definitely hinky played itself out here."

"Merton?" John increased his stride despite running blind as the snow fell around him.

"That would be my first guess. The way I've lost track of Sam in such a short space of time just isn't natural."

"Oh god you think he's got my boy?" John felt physically sick but didn't slow down, twisting his lean body through the trees in a desperate weave.

"You know of any other spirits haunting these woods that Sam is supposed to be getting rid of?" responded Joshua sarcastically as he continued his search, heading deeper into the wooded area.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Matt could remember a fascination with the magical quality of snow falling when he was young boy. Now if the mood took him they could fall straight through him and their cold touch was no longer felt. But still he could recall the power behind the pretty delicate flakes to do harm, remembering numb fingers and the agony of chilblains on spending too long a time in the snow one winter's day as a child.

Now as he watched the tall boy so much like his own younger brother just sitting in the snow his bowed head dusted white it just seemed wrong. Whatever his issues were with his dad might prove fatal if he didn't get up soon.

Finding his voice he cajoled Sam, "Come on kid, you need to get moving again."

When he got no response he tentatively laid a hand made solid again on his slumped shoulder and swallowed back bitter regret as he felt such loss pulsing through the boy, "Listen I'm real sorry I went off at you and your brother. It just seems something goes pop inside my head and things go crazy mad."

Sam flashed a rueful smile at him and Matt felt something akin to relief wash over him as he admitted finally, "I guess the truth is that I'm tired of this, not belonging anywhere. Its kind of scary too Sam, this not being alive stuff."

"That's why it would be terrible for you to stay like this, always alone," admitted Sam as he glanced through his damp bangs at the older boy's mournful face.

"I thought if I could just get back home I could fix things but that's not ever going to happen is it?" Matt watched the boy shake his head and felt the grief of loss for his family bite hard again "I miss them so badly."

Softly Sam whispered back, his eyes drooping heavy with exhaustion, "Just take comfort that they loved you. Still do I'm guessing no matter what."

Matt knelt down to Sam and took onboard for the first time the life leaching out of him and felt something akin to fear race down his spine, "And you think that's something you've lost?"

When Sam just gave a small shrug and drew his knees up to support his chin the spirit could remember enough about being alive to be scared for him, "Look kid at least you've still got that opportunity to go back and sort things out with your dad, your brother. Sitting on the ground letting your ass freeze over isn't going to help. Right?"

Sam pushed his face back onto his knees and sighed, the air curling in a grey mist around him as he admitted, "I just need time to sort out things in my head before I have to face him again. He's so freaking pissed he's not gonna listen to thing I say, just scream what a mistake I am as usual."

Matt tugged at Sam's elbow and snapped back, "Pissed off or not you've still got to get up."

"Why should I?" moaned Sam with a small pout pulling away from Matt's cold grip. "Kind of like it here. No one yelling the odds at me, telling me what an idiot I am."

"Well see I sort of feel like the idiot here cos' kid I sort of dented you up a bit and you look worse than terrible." A soft chuckle escaped from Sam despite himself and Matt quickly added, "Besides watching you turn into a human popsicle is not high on my list of fun."

The rattle in Sam's chest was another warning to Matt that time was going against the kid and all he wanted him back to the safety of somewhere warm, "Come on its time for you to head home. Some of us aren't so lucky you know."

"What's the point? I haven't done what he wanted so he won't let me see Dean. All I'm gonna hear is what a continued disappointment I am to him," answered Sam truthfully, his head tucked down to his chin as he shivered despite the heating raging inside his body.

"That my point kiddo. You've gotta get up, especially if you want to get your brother back. Get up Sam and show some fight here."

Sam shook his head in denial, "You just don't understand. I can't keep on fighting him…not when it keeps getting my brother hurt. Not when he has every right to be angry with me."

"Jeez kid if your dad should be angry at anyone it should be that sick fucker Burnett or hell even me."

"No you don't get it, he raised me to know better. I should have realised what that creep was all about, and about you to," responded Sam in automatic defence of his dad. "All he wants is for me to grow up and stop making mistakes that fuck everything up."

"Well you ain't gonna do any of this so called growing up if you end up my side of the great divide are you?" Matt squatted down besides him and added, "And believe me kid when I tell you this whole being dead sucks big time."

"Might be safer than having to go back and be on the end of another tongue lashing," remarked Sam, tilting his head to look back at the ghost again with world-weary eyes.

"You really just gonna up and die then?" Matt asked and then added darkly on seeing Sam flinch under his words, "You might want to think of the fun that mean old pappy of yours is going to have on burning _your_ frozen bag of bones kiddo after he's finished with mine."

Sam jerked his head up sharply at the spirit's words, realising the truth to them and not liking them one little bit. He could just imagine his dad doing just what Matt suggested and the colour flushed his cheeks and his jaw set hard.

"No freaking way," he growled out as he pushed himself up off the cold ground and brushed aside Matt's helping hand eyeing the path ahead with fresh determination.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

It was the dark spotting against the sharp white of the ground that caught Josh's attention and sourly he squatted down to shine a beam of light over the blood stained snow. Not enough to worry about, he told himself as his eyes danced past the stains to the disturbed ground that followed.

Tracing gloved fingers over a hollow crushed into the snow he could make out the shape of a familiar footprint that matched those of earlier. Puzzled he knew it had taken him a good ten minutes to get to this place from the lake and yet there had been no trail to follow. It seemed that somehow Sam had magically reappeared here, as if he had leapfrogged from the lake to this sheltered spot. That or flew here courtesy of some freaking teenage ghost that had already taken out his big brother, figured the anxious hunter.

Gruffly he stood up again, kicking over the blood stained snow as if to erase the worry from his mind. Once again he tried calling out for Sam but just like last time there was no response. Still unlike before the tracks didn't just disappear into nothing as a trail led away to the north. Taking out his phone he speed dialled John, "Heads up Johnny, I've got new tracks heading back to the road by the looks of things."

Face broad with relief John still dared to ask, "You sure they're Sam's?"

"Yeah, no doubt they belong to the kid. Seems like your Sammy is hot footing it out of the woods." Glancing back to the stained snow Joshua added, "Though it looks like he took a tumble at some point, there's some blood spotting the ground, not much but…."

"He's a tough kid Josh, he'll be fine," murmured John as he did a half turn and headed back up towards the road not quite believing his own words.

"For once I hope you've got something right about the boy John."

His mind still reeling that his youngest might have been hurt again, John found himself agreeing with his old friend, "Yeah me too."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Hal Birdstrom tapped an uneven tune on the elevator floor, hating the waiting game he was forced to play. He had another two hours of his shift to finish but thankfully the flow of accidents and emergencies had slowed down to a trickle. Confident in his junior colleagues abilities to deal with the minor stuff it left him time to wander back up to ITU.

On stepping out of the elevator he stopped long enough to have a quick chat with the very personable nurse he had his eye on for some time before idling down the corridor with a smile on his face. Tucking the slip of paper with her number on it into his shirt pocket he stepped in the side room and cast a professional eye over the older Winchester boy who slept on soundly.

He picked up his chart and he nodded his pleasure at his progress, and muttered softly under his breath, "You're doing good Dean. Scared the crap out your family for while I have to admit. Turned your dad into one hell of a grizzly bear that's for sure." He paused and added in a conspiratorial whisper, "Best hurry up and do some of that miracle healing that seems to charm the Winchester family before that mean old grizzly continues mauling his way through the medical staff and what's left of your baby brother…."

His words were trigger that he should have expected, having noted the closeness of the boys every time he had visited during Sam's recovery, but it made him start nonetheless when green eyes snapped open to stare hard at him. A little flustered he threw him a water smile and greeting, "Hey Dean."

He was met with a blank stare followed by a frown of confusion and he added quickly on recalling that head injuries sometimes led to memory loss, "Its Hal, Hal Birdstrom. Doctor extraordinaire to the friends of a certain bad assed hunter named Joshua!"

"Joshua? He here?" asked Dean hoarsely as he processed the doctors information, slowly turning his head to glance at the doorway hoping to see a familiar face.

"No, not yet. He'll be back later I hope," answered Hal as truthfully as he could. The last thing he needed was Dean to get upset on hearing that his friend was out there in a freaking blizzard looking for his missing brother.

"My dad?"

Not able to meet his stare Hal fiddled with the chart afraid to let the truth spill out and the damage it might do, "Your dad went home for a little while."

Dean yawned, seeming content with the answer, and as his eyes drooped shut again he added, "He'll be bringing Sammy back with him."

"Yeah kid," responded Hal as Dean drifted back off again, "Lets pray he really does."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

For the last five years the spirit of Matt had only been able to roam so far from the woods and now he was at that limit, a bend in the road, so close to home but impossible for him to breach past an invisible boundary.

Turning a trusting face back to Sam he implored, "You promise me, promise to tell them that "I wish I could have stayed with them. That I still miss them and that I never meant to leave them like this."

Despite his exhaustion at the uphill trek back to the road Sam nodded, "I promise Matt. I will."

"You tell your brother that I'm sorry too. That I never meant to fry his brains like that or make things go bad with you and your dad."

"I know you didn't," Sam held back tears as the ghost looked longingly down the road guessing where his thoughts and heart where at.

"Good, good," nodded Matt nervously before turning back to Sam. "So what do I next?"

There was a flicker of panic in Sam's eyes as he realised that he really didn't have a clue on how to help a ghost move on without the benefit of a dusting of a salt and the ignition of kerosene soaked bones. Stumbling over his words he offered up timidly, "You have to want to move on I guess and find the strength to leave the anger behind. Perhaps if you just tried to think on all the good memories you had when you were alive then you'd find peace. Get that release…"

"Find peace, right! Yay, piece of cake…" sighed Matt as he shut his eyes and tried to follow Sam's instructions. Finding it easier than he imagined a smile twitched across dead lips as memories cascaded in glorious technocolor inside his head. Memories of happy times with his family, of feeling love and in return truly remembering what being loved had been like. God, how he longed to have that back again, instead of the coldness centred inside his being.

Sam watched in open fascination as the emotions rippled across the ghost's face, and for a moment he wondered if he would have the courage to leave behind all that he loved on the promise of some stranger offering salvation.

For Matt though the process of release made itself as a strange tug centred in his abdomen and startled his eyes shot to cast a questioning look at Sam. "Is this it?" he asked and saw Sam mutely nod as warmth, long missed, grew inside him again. What masked as his body responded by emitting an amber glow that bathed his form and radiated outwards in a halo of light.

Awestruck Sam stood in silence, watching the boy's spirit brighten in the dark as it started on its ultimate journey. As he watched Matt transform his own heavy burden of guilt that had been on his shoulders started to shift. Finally he could tell himself that he had done something right. That as at least some good had come out of all his long catalogue of mistakes.

Matt offered up a toothy smile as a feeling of bliss washed over him as the final bonds that kept him rooted to the earth were cut and he whispered gratefully, "Bye Sam."

As one misplaced soul dissipated in a shower of golden sparks Sam whispered a prayer, after it, "If you see my mom tell her that I love her."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Battling against the curtain of large fat snowflakes obscuring his line of vision Sam was reminded of another night not so long ago when he had raced home in heavy rains with an evil man's words chasing after him. This time he covered the same ground with a departing spirits teasing words about his dad's intentions if he dared to up and die and Sam's tendency for stubborn had kicked right back in.

For a supposedly angry spirit Matt had been lucid enough to point out that he had to start fighting for what he wanted, and that was to have a chance to make it up with his brother. Waiting for his dad's rare approval was forgotten as he knew in his heart that Dean would forgive him. After all even after Burnett he had said he could never hate him? He had to have faith that still held true.

With his brother firmly in his thoughts it was easy to dismiss the burn in his chest every time he exhaled as just a minor nuisance. The sweat sticking his hair to scalp and trickling down his neck was just another irritation. As for his muscles weary body screaming a need for rest that too could be ignored. There would be time enough to rest after he had cleared things up with Dean.

Resisting any notion of falling sick again Sam pushed himself on again, telling himself it wasn't going to happen again, especially after Joshua had force fed him enough medication to make him feel like a walking bottle of pills.

Besides he told himself forcefully he couldn't afford to get sick again, not when all his energies needed to be centred on getting Dean better. This was one thing he could agree with his dad about. Dean had to come first.

As he turned the corner into the cabin despite the freezing weather sweat dripped saline into his eyes from his wet bangs, blurring his vision so at first he couldn't quite trust what he was seeing. He rubbed his bandaged fist over them, letting the material act like a sponge to soak up the sting of icy water, only to blanch at the sight of his dad's familiar truck parked up.

The tingle of alarm rushed over him and he whispered out, "Oh crap!"

His dad coming back couldn't be a good thing, and more than likely just heralded another round of venting at what a useless waste of space he was.

"I'm too tried of this," whispered Sam out loud, knowing that he would have he would have to do the all listening whilst his dad did all the usual yak, yak, yakking.

Sourly he knew that he might have got Matt to move on but his dad wouldn't be pleased in the manner he had achieved it. It was too unorthodox and certainly not macho enough to ask politely of a dead soul to pass on when you had the option to shovel out half a tonne of frozen earth to then combust a desiccated body.

'Yep', he admitted bitterly, 'not the John Winchester's patented way of doing things that's for sure.'

Grunting out his own annoyance Sam stood with his hands fisted on his hips, breathing ragged as he wondered what to do next. He felt a twinge of sympathy for Joshua trapped inside the cabin, more than likely being verbally eviscerated, but he wasn't that stupid to go in and put a stop to it only for his dad to turn his attention on to him, his intended target.

No, he told himself firmly, his dad might be having the biggest hissy fit of all time inside with his hapless protector but he wasn't going to stick around to listen to it. As far as he was concerned he had kept his side of the bargain, gotten rid of Matt, and now nothing and no one was going to stop him from getting back to his brother.

After fifteen years of trying to get his dad's rare approval Sam suddenly came to the conclusion that he could give a rat's ass about it anymore, not when it kept him from getting back to his brother. For a few long seconds his thoughts raced, wondering on how to achieve this.

Like a lightbulb pinging bright in his head he had his answer, and with it the tightness in his chest lessened, and that spark of defiance that always put up his dad's hackles ignited again, growing incrementally brighter.

A ghost of as smile twitched across his lips as he jogged over the truck, not in the least fazed when he saw the keys missing. Guessing that his dad wouldn't have bothered to lock the doors he yanked the driver's side open with a dark chuckle. As he pulled himself into the driver's seat a broad smile spilt his face. Not for naught had he been under the tutelage of a wily big brother and had watched him hotwire an assortment of cars to know what to do next.

After a few minutes of fiddling under the dashboard despite numb fingers the engine fired up and Sam laughed out his appreciation, "Thank you big brother, awesome, just awesome."

As he gunned it out of the clearing Sam could see in his mind's eye just how livid his dad was going to be on finding his truck gone and for once he didn't feel that familiar pang of fear. Maybe he was growing up if his dad's temper no longer worried him thought Sam as he took off down the lane. Growing up enough not to let him openly wound him anymore, perhaps.

A small smirk lifted his top lip at the notion that his dad would be forced to walk back to town, because if he guessed right Joshua wouldn't be in the mood to be driving his mean mouthed dad anywhere. His guardian could be as ornery and mule headed to match whatever venom his dad spat out at him, and once his feathers were ruffled could be spiteful to the extreme.

'Yeah', thought Sam with a sour chuckle recalling his dad's condescending putdowns each time he had been forced to hike home from school in piss poor weather, 'Lets see how you like walking all the freaking away into Baudette old man. We can compare notes later… maybe…'

When the van wobbled on the icy road Sam sucked in a breath of alarm and immediately dropped his speed, anxious not to follow Burnett's example and go nose to nose with a tree. Still even as the truck slowed down, and hugged the ground a little better, he couldn't keep the tremble in his limbs at bay. Now he could admit to himself just how tired he was. The spurt of energy that had seen him back home was fading fast and he found it hard to keep his senses sharp.

With heavy eyes he tried to navigate through the grey blanket of falling snow down the lane trying desperately to ignore his body's need for rest. A long yawn escaped despite cranking the window open an inch to let the cold night air rush in, and he yanked the radio on hoping the loud music would keep him more alert.

Then any thought of sleep vanished as the thump, thump, thump in his chest grew sharp as the van rounded the bend and its headlights picked up the tatters of yellow tape wrapped around the trunk of a tree. The same tree that had stopped his journey with Burnett and which he had been picked up like a ragdoll and thrown against.

Tires screeched and the smell of burnt rubber followed as he pulled to a stop, gagging painfully, just managing to get the door open to throw up the meagre contents of his stomach. For Sam this one tree was a conductor of all the nightmare thoughts he had tried to put aside. Of Burnett's large ugly face as he whispered in his ear his intent, and once again he could feel stubby fingers crawling through his hair, of a heavy weight pinning him down and the fear the left him almost paralysed till he found that inner strength to fight back.

Sam knew how lucky he had been compared to the price some had paid for trusting the man. But the knock on effect of what that man had done still caused so much pain that he just couldn't escape. If Burnett had never been then Matt would still be alive and his brother would never have been hurt. Looking at the tree it seemed tainted, marred by being a witness to what went on. And he hated it.

Stumbling out of the truck Sam weaved across the road and tore the tape away, hastily brushing the snow coating the bark to see the cleaved out dents on the surface. A sob caught in his throat as he admitted out loud, "I hate you."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

John knew the moment he saw the empty spot where his truck was supposed that its disappearance was down to his youngest child. Eyes followed his footprints that led up to where he had parked up only to end there. Cursing out loud he saw the open look of disbelief on Joshua's face as he pulled up short besides him, "He took my freaking truck!"

"Sam?" queried Joshua as he saw the car keys dangling uselessly in John's hand and he stifled a small snort of derision, "Well it looks like he's done hanging around waiting for daddy dearest to come pick him up."

"Boy has hung around with his brother too long," snapped back John not at all pleased for his youngest boy to put into practice long observed skills. Not when it came to stealing _his_ wheels.

Joshua despite all the worry Sam had put him through found himself unable to keep down the deep chuckle rising up his throat and his laughter echoed in the cold night air. "God I love that boy of yours. Looks like the Sammy we all know and love is back and has got enough fire in his belly to match your pisswater attitude JW."

"You think this funny? That my boy steals a ride, my ride, and goes off in a freaking blizzard to god knows where?"

The humour left Joshua's face as he leant into John, "He wouldn't have done it if he been pushed to almost breaking point. Besides we both know where he's going."

"Jesus man, why can't he never listen," demanded John. "I would have taken him back. I would have…"

"Yeah right, funny thing it's not what Sam heard from you, was it? You forced him away from his brother because you got a bee in your bonnet - so now you have to face the consequence of what follows next Johnny."

"When did things get so complicated with me and that stubborn boy?" asked John as he felt guilt roll over him again, wondering why he found it easier to keep pushing his boy away than it was to actually appreciate having him around.

"Only you can answer that one," Joshua paused and with telling half smile added, "You know for awhile I was afraid that he had forgotten how to fight his corner, but by the looks of things I can see the kid has inherited too much of that Winchester sass to give up. Thank god."

John shoved his car keys back into his pocket and admitted, "Yeah, well believe me sass hardly describes what drives that boy at times."

"Well let's just hope it helps the boy keep that half tonne wagon of yours on the road or that he doesn't do anything silly." Joshua pointedly ignored John's start of fear at his words and instead jogged over to his own waiting vehicle.

As the two men closed their doors in unison and the 4 x 4 engine started on the first turn of the key John let out a shaky breath. "Josh, when we find him, just Superglue my lips together if you even see a hint of something stupid readying to come out of my mouth."

With one hand on the wheel and the other rooting around in the dashboard compartment Joshua grinned as he pulled out a packet of the glue and dropped it into his lap readying for use. "Extra super strength, instant bonding, should do the job nicely you acid tongued sonofabitch."

"Yeah and I love you too." John shuffled uncomfortably for a second before he added, "Thanks Josh, thanks for looking after my boy and for chewing my ass off for being such a major jerk. You're a good friend even when I don't deserve it."

"John don't shock me into an early grave by showing me the nice side to your personality. Please, it just ain't natural!"

John chuckled hollowly besides him, then his eyes narrowed as they sped further down the lane as they took in the unnatural orange marring the tree line ahead. His mouth went dry, fearing the worst, as they rounded the bend to see the flames, "Sammy…"

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Dean twisted anxiously in his bed, ignoring the squeak of the mattress or the endless beep of the machines. If he lifted his head a little he could catch a glimpse out of the window but all he could see was continuous snowfall. Grunting his disappointment his head fell back on the pillow, trying to ignore the pain slicing through his skull as he tried desperately to get his thoughts together. The medication wasn't helping as he felt like he was floating a foot off the bed, and maybe that's why he felt so confused.

He could remember though a small wiry doctor from earlier voicing words of encouragement, explaining away dad's absence. But that seemed like hours ago and still he waited for his family to make an appearance so that the worry ate away him, fearing that the weather was conspiring to keep him from his family and he just wished for the sunny climate of California back again.

With a memory like Swiss cheese he was left struggling to put into any relevance the images that kept popping into his head. Things just didn't seem real, as the last clear memory was of a too thin pale baby brother cradling him in the snow begging him to stay with him.

How his baby brother had changed from that healthy tanned teenager enjoying the benefits of a late Indian summer in Santa Barbara to that pale faced and frighteningly thin boy holding on to him had yet to be answered. Just how that happy period of time had morphed into the harshness of winter in Wisconsin was a mystery he was going to have filled in by those two people he trusted implicitly, his dad and his brother.

Even as his headache grew he knew that knew that any answers rested with his brother's return. Sam always held the answers to whatever troubled him.

"Hurry up kiddo. Go screw the stupid weather," he growled under his breath as his eye lids grew to heavy to stay open and the medication pulled him under again.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Picking up the empty plastic container of fuel that he kept always in his trunk John tossed it angrily away through the trees, his lips thinning on taking in what his boy had done.

The flames were thankfully losing strength, having ate half-heartedly at the fuel drenched bark of the tree but the stench of charcoal hung heavy in the air. It was only surface damage and confined to the one tree, but it still made John angry that his boy could do something so reckless. The last thing they needed was the local law enforcement back on their doorstep. They had dodged that bullet when Burnett died but setting light to this tree was like a flagging beacon in the dark, bringing with it the potential of unwanted attention.

Joshua stood with his back to him, holding in one hand the tattered remnants of yellow police tape, watching the once vibrant orange flames turn pale and start to die. He could only guess where Sam's mind had been at to pull such a stunt and as he spun round to see his old friend's reaction caught only the slow burn of fury rather than understanding in his eyes.

It set his hackles rising and he muttered sarcastically under his breath as he headed back to his car, "The boy has imagination and style, nothing he's inherited from you, that's for sure."

Slamming shut the passenger door with more force than necessary John hissed back, "I don't know what the hell the boy's thinking anymore. Torching a goddam tree like this has to rang high on the list of stupid things he's ever done."

Joshua shook his head as keyed the ignition, "I'm guessing it was some form of release. Cathartic in as much of getting rid of all those pent up emotions he's been keeping inside about Burnett, what he's been letting eat away at him."

Cocking an eyebrow of disbelief John as got back in the car he growled out, "Cathartic? You swallow the Psychoanalysts 101 guide to troubled teenagers now?"

As he pulled away from the now smoking tree Joshua felt the need to defend the teenager's actions, "Yeah well maybe if you did a spot of reading other than research on ghouls and things that go bump in the night you might just understand that boy of yours a little better and none of this needed have happened."

John huffed at the suggestion but Joshua wasn't finished, "You keep shoving him away and honestly I don't think you know your doing it half the time." When he saw John's eyes darken at the truth he added, "Jeez dude don't you see you had the perfect opportunity with Dean away to be there for Sam, but no you let Jim take over that role and then when his brother turns up you let him take over again. What's the deal with that Johnny? You that scared of being the boy's daddy?"

Shaking his head in angry denial John spat out, "I'm his father. Don't ever accuse of not being that."

"Yeah, well maybe this time out he needed just his dad and not someone so eager to judge him all the time, looking for faults, time and time again."

Startled John turned to face his friend and asked, "You think that's what I do?"

"Yeah man I do, its what's caused this fucking mess now."

"Don't you say that," warned John as his fingers clenched into fists. "I never wanted any of this to happen. Sam is the one that went off like a loose cannon, first to confront a spirit that ended up getting his brother near killed and now this…"

"You pushed him out of the door tonight, no one else but you," sighed Joshua, feeling that he was chipping away at a chunk of obsidian that had wrapped John's heart in thick deflective armour. "You keep this up Johnny and one of these days your gonna push too hard and find him permanently gone."

Having heard a similar warning not to long ago John couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice, "Let me guess you and Jim Murphy been trading little chats on what a bad parent I've been. Now who's judging who?"

"Yeah, well now you might appreciate just how bad your boy feels," snapped back Joshua, his speed increasing as his need to find Sam outweighed his need to lay into John.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Sam didn't notice the concerned stares as he made his way through the ground floor lobby of the hospital as he headed for the elevators. To even the untrained eye he looked a mess, with the smudges of dried blood now drying on his face and the unhealthy pallor of his skin. The grey sweats were now heavy with melted snow so that they clung to his thin frame, just like his hair was plastered to his scalp, and his unsteady gait warned of collapse.

Ignoring that his body felt like it had run a marathon he kept on a direct path towards the elevators, not hearing the clatter of heavy feet as a concerned security guard chased after him. A hand on his shoulder brought him to an unsteady halt as the shorter but heavier man commanded, "Hey kid hold up, where'd ya think ya going?"

Instinct beat exhaustion every time and Sam manoeuvred out of his touch giving him a small shove to send him off balance to fall with a soft 'ooff 'on to his backside. "Going to see my brother. And you can't stop me."

As a crowd started to gather Sam spun back towards his intended target and stumbled towards the sanctuary of an elevator, shutting out the yell of the guard as he entered and the doors whooshed shut.

Sam stabbed clumsily at the elevators control panel wondering if he had hit the right button. At least he was going in the right direction , he thought with a tired smirk, as the elevator yanked upwards.

All his thoughts and energy was focused one thing, Dean. He had to get to him, and no one, not some stupid security guard, or more importantly his dad, was going to stop him now.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

"Sweet Jesus the fool boy can't park up to save his life," snarled out John as he spotted his newly dented truck slewed across two parking bays, the front fender hanging precariously half off next to a busted up three foot high concrete pillar.

Hearing the warning hiss from his friend he threw Joshua a quick look and sheepishly grinned at seeing the tube of superglue being waggled in his direction. "Okay. I will watch my mouth. Boy scouts promise, I swear."

Joshua shouted after John who was heading over to his inspect his truck, "You were never a frigging boy scout John Winchester, you may have worn for a short period time the disguise of a child but you were born a grizzled old bitch of a hunter."

John ignored the jibe and instead turned off the still running engine and straightened up, running shaky fingers through his hair he shook his head before fumbling for his phone, "Hey Hal, you got Sammy with you?"

His face dropped when it was a negative and he quickly added, "My boy's here, back at the hospital. Yeah, we'll meet you in E.R. then head right up to Dean's room. My guess its the only place he's heading for."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

It had taken him a too few many floors to find ITU but as he stepped out on to the eight floor the last thing he expected as the stepped out of the elevator was to be spun round to meet the dark dangerous eyes of his father. With Matt's words still ringing in his ears as a warning Sam pushed back and felt a satisfying second of victory when his dad caught off centre stumbled backwards, only for it to vanish when his dad's hard hands didn't loosen their grip and he went with him.

Seeing what was about to happen Joshua stepped in and steadied both Winchesters before they both fell down offering words of comfort as he kept Sam propped up, "Its okay son. Its okay."

John bristled instantly at hearing the term of affection coming from the other man, and his desire to be the one saying those words took over as he pushed Joshua aside. "No…he's my boy."

For Sam it was a threatening gesture and he backed up to hit the corridor wall and with an edge of defiance he barked out, "No, I got rid of Matt. You said I could see my brother if I did that. I want to see him…"

John appalled at how close to collapse his son appeared tried to reach out for him again but his boy was too skittish to want contact and moved further away. He stilled not wanting to cause even more upset and tried to keep his voice even, "Listen Sammy, you can't see him, not like this."

Shaking his head in denial Sam looked over his dad's shoulder where Dean's room was situated at the end of the corridor. "But I have to tell him that I'm sorry."

Throwing Joshua and Hal a desperate look John steeled himself before trying to reach his boy again. "You will, but not right now. If your brother clocks eyes on you in this state it will only cause more harm than good. Listen to me this once, please son."

Sam visibly flinched at the familial reference and his lips thinned in defiance, "Go to hell."

"Sam?" gasped out John shocked at the vehemence behind his boy's words.

"No, I let you make me think that he'd hate me too," snapped out Sam before fiercely patting the centre of his chest, "But I know it in here that it isn't true. He promised me he could never hate me. Never."

Joshua stepped in as he watched the oldest Winchester visibly deflate and the youngest sway unsteady on his feet again. "Listen kid your right. Dean would never feel like that about his pain in the ass baby brother. Not ever, never. But the thing is your brother has suffered a major head injury and the last thing we want is to raise his blood pressure and cause any more damage. Okay?"

Sam bit his bottom lip as he absorbed Joshua's words, "But I won't say anything bad I promise. Please Josh…I have to make things right with him."

The older hunter dared to place a steadying hand on the lanky boy's shoulder, stifling a hiss of alarm through clenched teeth at feeling the unnatural heat being generated. The drying smears of blood that covered half his face was another telling sign that he had been through additional trauma, "Ah kiddo I don't think you realise what a mess your in right now. It would scare Dean half to death if he saw you looking like the walking dead and it might just put back his recovery."

Self-consciously Sam rubbed at the stains on his face and brushed the wet strands away from his eyes trying to present a better image. "I'll wash up. It will be okay then?"

John stepped back into the frame and Joshua backed off, holding his breath that this time he would manage to hold onto his boy emotionally.

Sam for his part eyed his father warily, though was unable to voice his resistance as he reached out a hand to the back of his neck to draw him tightly to him.

Once again John felt his inadequacy of failing as the boy's father bite hard as he felt the physical tremors running through his boy. For a few seconds he hugged him close, desperate to impart to his boy his love and need for him till voice thick with emotion he whispered into his ear, "Don't ever think that I hate you son. Anything but that. You boys, you've all I've got."

Sam whimpered a muffled denial on his shoulder but John wasn't finished, "I know I said things, hurt you, but I got scared Sammy. And I let that drive my family apart when truth is we needed all to be here, together. So for that I am truly sorry."

Pulling away Sam couldn't quite trust the words coming out of his dad's mouth. His dad never apologised, never said sorry, not ever. Maybe he was just being set up for another big fall when his dad°ulled the rug from under his feet again. Eyeing his dad with suspicions he demanded again, "I just want to see Dean."

John sighed his disappointment hoping that his words would have struck some chord with his boy but all he saw was suspicion. He was going to have work a whole lot harder he realised to see unconditional trust back in his son's eyes again. "Son, listen, I promise you can see Dean but first lets get Hal to check you over, tidy you up a bit, then take it from there."

There was a long drawn out silence as both Winchester men studied each other and an impatient Hal barged into the mix wagging a telling finger at Sam, "You can duke it out with that bull-headed dad of yours later because by the looks of things Sam Winchester you have put all my hard work into getting your sorry butt back into shape out of the window."

Nose scrunching up as he digested Hal's words Sam slowly nodded his understanding rubbing self consciously again on the drying flakes of blood on his face, "I got a little bit dented, that's what Matt said. He didn't mean to though, not to me or to Dean. He said he was sorry."

"I'm sure he was Sam, but you still look like your readying to keel over." Turning a hard look at John he added, "I can only guess what happened out there tonight Sam but you can believe me to get this all sorted out to get you back on track to see your brother again real soon."

Lingering doubt forced Sam to ask, "You promise? Cos' you see dad's right, I can't afford to be sick again, focus gotta be on Dean. "

John's face crumpled at his son's words but Hal came back quickly, "I swear on that vacation to the Bahamas that a certain person owes me Sammy that you can trust me. Lets get you back to being one hundred percent and then you can spend as much time as you like with your brother. Okay?"

Huffing behind them Joshua growled out softly with a clear hint of amusement on his face, "You ain't gonna let this vacation thing rest are you Bird?"

"Nope," smiled Hal sweetly as he led a clearly near exhausted Sam to a side room. "Not whilst I have the Winchester Boys and your wallet on my shift."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

_**Now trust me when I say this is the penultimate chapter! No seriously there is just a bit of John, Dean & Sam interaction to follow, and a leap forwards to present day(ish) to wrap things up! Hopefully you'll still offer your thoughts despite my seriously whacked out ability to send feedback – because you do keep me sane and on a wobbly path to update! Rozzy. **_


	18. Chapter 18

**Growing Pains – Chapter 18: Vanilla crème vs jelly**

**_As always usual disclaimers applyincluding all stupid mistakes. _**

**_My thanks to everyone that has reviewed, put me on alerts and sent me those PM's to help nudge me along. I know this should have been up weeks back but I got a little poorly (certainly knows how Sam feels in this chapter!) and RL has truly stunk big time. To make up for my tardiness this is a way too long chapter so I hope you enjoy regardless! Rozzy._**

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Joshua chewed on a jagged piece of thumbnail as he watched his friend study the chest X-ray before daring to ask, "So what's the verdict Birdie?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose Hal shook his head knowing the news was going to hurt his friend. "Damn fool kid doesn't do things by halves, shadows on both lungs and his blood work confirms an elevated white cell count, all pointing to bronchial pneumonia."

Appalled at the news the big man spluttered out a denial, "But I shoved enough pills into the runt to halt the bubonic plague in its tracks. I guessed, well shit I thought it would be enough."

"Hey come on this is not your fault Jay," came back Hal in support. "The boy's immune system has taken a serious battering lately and running around in a freaking blizzard hasn't helped that's for sure."

Feeling a tension headache forming anew Joshua mulled over his friend's words before he spat back, "Not my fault? I knew just how screwed up that kid's head was and should have kept a closer eye on him. Hell I should have told John where to shove his orders and brought Sammy straight back and none of this would have happened."

Shaking his head again Hal tried to nullify some of the guilt eating away at his friend, "Look you know my opinion of that man but it was his boy that pulled a Houdini act on you. Guess he has enough of his Pappy inside of him to make him a tad wilful at times!"

"Ya think Birdie? Jeez it's a good job I love the brat or so help me…" Joshua paused considering his options, "Guess I'll just have to take him home and chain his sorry ass to be the bed and stop his wander lust cold in its tracks."

Bursting his bubble of hope before it could expand any further Hal made his stance clear, "Not happening Jay. I gave in to you idiots when the boy first got sick but I'm not taking that risk again. Whether you like it or not Sam's staying in PICU till he gets over this crisis."

The big hunter swallowed hard, aware that he had let the troubled teenager slip out right under his nose. "I just keep on fucking up with the kid. One day he's gonna wanna punch my lights out for all the crap I've let happen to him on my watch."

Wincing at his friend's outburst Hal offered back some hope, "Look its not all gloom and doom. We're lucky in that Sam is young and too goddam stubborn to let this keep him down for long."

Instantly the large hunter's spirits buoyed and he stood up straighter, "So the runt will be just fine after you start him on that magic mojo of yours; get him drugged him up to the gills and he'll be as good as new, right?"

Unable to hide a smile at his friend's steadfast belief in his ability to cure all ills Hal returned, "That's part of it, but judging how he butted heads with dad earlier I'd wager a months pay that Sam will be back on his feet in record time just so that he can stick two fingers up to his old man. Like I said feisty little bugger isn't going to let this keep him down for long."

Clamping a hand on his friend's shoulders Joshua said his thanks, "I don't say it often enough and I know the long hours you work and you taking time out like this, for the kid, well just thanks man it means a lot to me."

Hal scowled, knowing that somehow over the last few weeks the youngest Winchester had burrowed under his thick hide and Joshua wasn't blind to the effect on him, "Thanks only go so far amigo. Remember that when I've parked my butt on that Bahamian sun kissed beach with a banana daiquiri in one hand and a hot bikini babe in the other."

Raising an eyebrow Joshua sniggered, "Banana daiquiri you mercenary little bastard? Seriously dude I always suspected you were a pansy underneath those scrubs."

"Think what you like but I'm looking forward to the break at the end of the month," Hal paused, taking in the dark smudges under his friend's eyes and deepening lines of worry etched into his face and added, "You need this too as hanging around with the Winchester clan has left you looking beat. Seriously dude you are going to find it hard pulling anything with a skirt when you look like a geriatric insomniac."

Scrubbing a weary hand over his stubbled face Joshua inwardly agreed but instead said, "I'll sleep like a baby on the plane with half a bottle of vodka under my belt but in the meantime I'd I best go hit John with the news about Sam. This is going to be hard for him to deal with both his boys laid up like this."

Sarcasm rolled easily off his tongue as Hal snapped back, "I can just imagine! Lets just hope daddy dearest can divide his attention between the two of them a little better this time out." Flicking the light box off and stuffing the X-ray back into its cardboard sleeve he turned back to face Joshua with a warning, "Both his sons are gonna need their father over the next few days. Best you go remind him of this fact."

In defence of his friend Joshua countered, "Look Bird there have been times when I've wanted to beat the crap out of John for the way he treats his boys like miniature warriors in the making. He's single minded to a fault, can be a total jackass at times and yeah his parenting skills are a little suspect but he does love his boys. At least that much survived of the man when he lost his wife."

"Funny form of love to be doled out in small doses as he sees fit," sneered back the shorter man, "More importantly I don't see him waiting anxiously outside for a diagnosis on that boy of his. Believe me, that tells me everything I need to know about John Winchester thank you very much."

Joshua threw his friend a weak grin, knowing how easy it was to misunderstand John's reaction to this whole fucked up mess and confessed, "It's a control thing going on here Hal. For Johnny the power to keep his boys safe has been taken from him and that leaves him frightened and a little bit crazy. Just imagine him as man stripped naked and so way out of his comfort zone it's not remotely funny…."

A soft snort of disbelief escaped from the short doctor but he couldn't dismiss the memory of John holding his youngest son tight in sleep a few weeks back and he hid behind an acidic tongue again, "Well that's something I never wanted to imagine, the big galoot nekked – please I may just go blind!"

Joshua chuckled at his side and Hal nudged him with a sharp elbow, "Just go and sort out the mean son-of-a-Winchester-bitch and I'll get Sam's paperwork officially started before Admin starts to kick up a stink."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

As the clock reached the top of the hour John was all to aware that he had let the responsibility for his youngest be taken from him again. It had been over ninety minutes since Sam has been hustled away to Radiology and still he was sitting by Dean's bedside totally in the dark as to what was happening with his boy.

"Just how long does it take to do a couple of chest x-rays' he spat out angrily to the four walls hating the silence almost as much as himself.

Earlier when he had been told him that they needed to run further tests on Sam his immediate reaction was to seek his boy out but Joshua blocked his path with a sad shake of his head, "You might want to sit this one out John, go stay with Dean a while. I kind of promised to that I'd go with Sam if that's okay with you?"

Shooting a look over his shoulder he had caught sight of his son, head bowed with his long hair falling over his eyes so that it was impossible to search out any recognition or need from him. With his mouth impossibly dry he couldn't form the words to plead his case. The mental punch to the gut had left him floundering as the truth sunk in, that his boy wanted Josh by his side as his much preferred father substitute and not him.

Pride then had kept him rooted to the spot when they him led away, the bitter taste of rejection familiar on his tongue once more as his son walked passed him without a word or a backward glance. Familiar or not it the sense of rejection didn't lessen the hurt he felt on seeing Joshua's large hand on Sam's shoulder and not his own as he was steered towards the elevator.

The irony hadn't been lost on him, on how easily his friend had taken up a protective stance with his boy. It was a role he had handed out to many others over the years. From his brother downwards there was a line of people who had stepped into that breach he had so easily vacated when a hunt had seemed far more important. But now it was a vacation he wanted an end to. He wanted his boy back and the unconditional love and trust that went with it.

Groaning out loud he could finally see that he was going to lose him not to any monster or demon that had haunted his dreams since Mary's death but to his own too very human mistakes. He had let his ego fill the gaps between reasoning and inaction and it left him poorly judged again. The look of censure on Birdstrom's face as the elevator doors slid shut and his boy disappeared from view was going to stay with him for a very long time.

Looking back to his oldest child, who remained blissfully unaware of the status of his fracturing family he whispered out his hurt, "How did I let it get so bad between us Dean? He told me to go to hell son, me, his own dad, and god knows I'm already halfway there…but without you boys, without Sammy, then this life I taken you both on since your mother was taken would have been all for nothing."

As if he was filtering the strong emotions pouring out his dad Dean stirred, dark eyelashes fluttered against pale cheeks, whilst searching fingers lifted off the bed to anchor against something solid as consciousness threatened a return.

Hastily John grasped at his son's hand, a small thrill racing inside of him that at least with Dean his touch was not going to be rejected. Softly he tried to shush him back to sleep, in truth not ready to deal with the inevitable questions that would steal from his lips on waking. "Its okay, rest easy son. Go back to sleep."

Dean seemingly assured by the familiarity of his voice compliantly did what was asked of him, a soft exhale escaping as his head settled back on the pillow helped along the aid of the strong opiates coursing through his blood stream as he was pulled easily under again.

After few minutes John looked back to the clock and his forehead puckered in a frown wondering just how much longer it was going to take before they brought Sam back. Glancing back to Dean a rueful smile ghosting across his face as he confessed. "I know if you were awake right now you'd tell me to stop wallowing and go pull that proverbial rabbit out of the hat. It really is up to me to put our family back together again."

Standing up with a long stretch to rid himself of the ache sitting in his exhausted bones John's mind was suddenly made up for action. He'd be damned if he would just roll over and be excised out of his boy's life. Samuel Winchester fifteen and half years and with attitude to match was still his child and it was about time everyone knew that. Especially Sammy.

With long determined strides he had made it just past the Nurses station when the elevator doors pinged open and Joshua stepped out. Just one glance at his friend's face and he had answer on how his youngest was doing and not for the first time that day his heart thumped hard in his chest with fear.

**o0o0o0o0o**

Flustered the diminutive nurse tried to plead her case with the agitated and readying to bolt teenager, "Mr Winchester, Samuel, please I have to place you on an IV. Dr Birdstrom left explicit instructions that you be started on this medication straight away."

When the tall boy just huffed out his distrust she added with a weak smile, "I've done this thousands of times you'll hardly feel a thing. Honest."

Determinedly Sam pushed her away with a long arm, his voice thick with threat, "You come any closer with that needle and I'm going stick it where the sun don't shine lady, and you'll be lucky if a full body scan finds it ever again!"

Hal Birdstrom catching the tail-end of Sam's outburst pushed past the nervous nurse and snapped out a warning, "Winchester you'd better stow the attitude or so help me I will have you sedated for the rest of your admission to this unit."

Sam almost a head taller than the doctor glared back at him, his breathing uneven and his face flush with both temper and a growing fever as he spat back, "Yeah… like I'm gonna do anything you ask ever again."

Cocking an eyebrow in surprise at the belligerence behind the teenager's words Hal was forced to ask, "And what's that supposed to mean?"

Despite his increasing breathlessness Sam tried to argue his corner, "You tricked me, said that once I got checked over I could go back to my brother. Don't see how sticking me with that thing is going to achieve that."

Birdstrom shook his head knowing he was in danger of upsetting his patient further as he admitted, "I said that it might be possible if you were okay which clearly you are not, so suck it up mister and let us do our job here."

Sam wasn't ready to give in and despite the way the headache thumped hard in his skull and the fire burned in his chest he spat back, "Its just a stupid cold. Give me a couple of aspirin and I'll be just fine."

On hearing the desperate hitch in Sam's voice Hal winced but knew he had to remain firm, as budging an inch with a Winchester was akin to giving up the battle entirely, "I'm sorry kid but your x-ray and blood work says otherwise and I think you know it."

Ignoring the familiar scowl directed at him Hal continued, "See Sam I'm guessing you feel like crap again. You know the feeling, that your chest hurts so bad its feel like there's a ten tonne weight crushing down on it. Hell just about everything hurts, right?" He waited a second for some affirmation but still got only a killer glare, "So like it or not your staying put till we get things back under control."

The finality of Hal's words struck hard and Sam's face fell as he whispered his distress, "This is beyond crazy…I can't be sick again. I just can't."

Hal felt his defences weakening once more under the intensity of the boy's too expressive eyes and once again was reminded of his friend's warning that Sam could win any argument with just a look. Steeling himself he grabbed up his chart as a diversionary tool and mustered back a reply, "I know it seems like you've been double whammied here kid, but the sooner we get you into that bed the sooner we can get this thing beat."

Sam wanted to argue further but the truth was the mere act of sucking in air had never been so difficult or painful and he was forced to admit in a tight breath, "I hate this."

Watching the defiance leach away from the boy Hal grabbed an elbow and guided him over to the bed, offering up some hope as he made him sit down, "Look Sam at least in here we can monitor you properly and adjust your treatment accordingly. I promise it will get you back to your brother sooner rather than later."

Unwavering eyes pinned the doctor as Sam demanded, "You've made me a promise like that before. Yet here I am no nearer getting back to my brother than when dad sent me away. Why do I have to trust anything that comes out of your mouth?"

Mentally crossing his fingers Hal responded as lightly as he could, "Come on Sam I'm the one who has two weeks in the Bahamas on the line here. If I stuff up in anyway here with your treatment you know that tight fisted bastard holding the purse strings is so going to pull the plug on that."

Normally Sam would have chuckled at the thought of the colourful doctor butting heads with Josh but his thoughts were singularly centred on his brother. Determinedly he reached out and snagged the doctor's wrists in a fierce grip, "Dean mustn't find out about this, piling more stress on him won't do him any good."

Seeing the panic building in his patient Hal quickly voiced his agreement whilst extracting himself from the crushing fingers, "Well I suppose it we could just fudge the diagnosis to something like the flu if he asks where you are. A little white lie for a few days can't do much harm I guess."

When his words were met with an enthusiastic nod he continued whilst rubbing the feeling back into his wrist, "Besides that hard headed brother of yours is going to be too strung out on a heavy cocktail of meds to notice much for a good few more days. Gives you enough of safety zone to get yourself better and back to his bedside before he starts asking too many questions lets hope."

"Yeah that sounds good," wheezed back Sam, fisting a hand over his sternum as he battled for breath. "Cos' dad's right – Dean's recovery shouldn't be sidetracked by anything."

At the mention at the boy's father Hal inwardly bristled but outwardly kept his demeanour neutral, "You just focus on getting yourself well here Sam. It's the best thing you can do for your brother, and for yourself right now."

Despite the doctor's easy banter Sam threw him a telling look asking directly, "Really Bird, how long do I have to stay here?"

Trying to lessen his anxiety Hal answered as honestly as he could, "If you let the nursing staff do their job and luck is on your side then maybe only a few days, a week tops. You know the drill, rest and more rest, it's the best cure I know for what ails you kiddo."

Sam scanned the sterile room finally realising that there was going to be no quick escape and his shoulders slumped in defeat, his chest hurting too much to offer any further resistance, "Why can't I ever do things right?"

"There's no right or wrong here Sam, just Fate coming up to bite you on the butt no matter what you do try to do to avoid it," remarked Hal softly as he wrote in the notes a near undecipherable spiders squiggle of observations.

When all he got was a tired sigh Hal took that his opportunity to beckon to the nurse to give him the IV needle and in seconds he had expertly inserted it into the crook of his left arm. With a few strips of tape the line was fixed in place all without eliciting even a murmur from his suddenly compliant patient.

Adjusting the drip Hal was concerned at how rapidly Sam was mentally deflating and tried to put the breaks on his downward spiral, "Come on kid no way was this your fault. If anyone made a mistake here it's me. I should have insisted on keeping a closer eye on you and made sure that you kept with the programme."

Fighting against the increasing tightness wrapping around his chest wall Sam could only see his failures again, "Yeah, like to you see try selling that guilt trip to my dad. He already knows how badly I screwed this up, and this sure as hell won't change his opinion of me will it?"

"I really don't give a rats ass about what your daddy thinks in that strange corner of the universe that houses his addled brain, and neither should you," hissed back Hal his ill humour growing each time the boy's dad was drawn back into the equation.

A wet cough erupted from Sam as he dared a bitter laugh at Hal's bluntness, "Funny, real funny. Doesn't help though that I've driven him near insane with worry by getting my brother's brains almost bashed out his skull."

Muttering under his breath Hal wished that he was a hundred pounds heavier, a whole foot taller and more importantly didn't have a right hook that made Barbie seem butch in comparison. Yeah then he would gladly take a pop at Papa Winchester's jaw for his ability to make his son weather such intense guilt and not do a thing to stop it.

Putting aside his anger Hal managed to elicit a flash of dimples from Sam as he whispered, "Come on, lets get you settled before Mr McCrazy with a capital W pokes his head in here and makes me forget I'm a born again pacifist." He paused and threw Sam a shrug as he admitted, "Honestly I don't know why I let your dad get to me like he does. I'm normally a pretty laid back sort of person but man he surely rubs me the wrong way."

"It's a specialised talent ya know," wheezed back Sam with a knowing smile.

"What is?" asked Hal with a raised eyebrow.

"Pissing people off. Dean's say's it's in our genes and that I can do that with dad by just breathing at times." Sam paused and the dimples returned as he admitted softly, "Its kinda of fun to see that tick start up on the old man's left eyelid when I get him going, twitches something fierce if I press his buttons in the right order."

"You Sam Winchester are not as angelic as you make out, are you?" laughed Hal at seeing the mischievous glint in the boy's eyes.

He was rewarded with a sweeter than sweet smile as Sam admitted, "Learnt from the best. Dean's just does it in a more roundabout way is all. Just has to mention 'local girl, church and a shotgun' in the same sentence to my dad and bammo the tick is back in full force and next thing you know we're all packed up and speeding towards the state line."

As he raised up the bed and guided Sam's long legs onto the mattress Hal found himself remarking out loud, "I can well and truly believe that's true about your brother. The guy must have escaped quite a few angry father-in-laws-to-be over the years. Guess if he's true to form he'll have half of the female staff phone numbers before he's discharged."

"Only half?" smirked back Sam before slumping his head down onto the pillow his body's need for rest finally making itself known to him after the painful sequence of events that he had been put through before freeing Matt's spirit.

Hal not noticing how Sam was closing down again chuckled despite himself as he continued to attach various monitors to Sam, "Suppose if your brother is such a babe magnet maybe I should pump him for some helpful tips. There's this gorgeous red head on ITU that I've been chasing after for ages…"

The polite cough behind him acted as a reminder that he wasn't alone with Sam and Hal threw the nurse a soft apologetic smile. "Sorry Betsy, you know you'd be number one on my hit list of all things hot but the gorilla you call a husband might just snap me in half if I ever tried to test the waters."

The blonde haired woman smiled despite the backhanded compliment, "Well I'm sure I'd feel slightly flattered if I didn't already know that you wormed Gloria's number off her earlier Doctor Birdstrom."

Hal had the decency to blush and he turned his attention quickly back to his patient, "Let this act as a warning Sam to never under estimate the cognitive powers of womankind. Its beyond scary."

"Thanks…I think," whispered back Sam now too tired to want to talk. A spasm caught in his throat and this time he was unable to stop the flicker of pain ghosting across his face as he hacked out a phlegmy cough.

Attaching the pulse monitor to Sam's middle finger Hal reacted to sound of his worsening breathing by nodding over to the nurse. "Betsy if you don't mind I think our young Mr Winchester here would benefit from some O2 for a little while."

"Sure thing Dr Birdstrom," chirped back the young woman snapping back into professional mode, eager to be of use again.

When the petite blonde pulled the mask towards Sam she hesitated on catching his distrustful glare but Birdstrom negated any argument, "Come on Sam it will help you breathe easier. Remember the sooner we start your treatment the sooner we can kick your sorry butt back upstairs to Dean."

Sam closed his eyes in defeat as he felt the mask being slipped over his head and grimaced as the cold air flooded his nostrils. After a few seconds though the pain in his chest started to ease and he opened his eyes to throw Hal a grateful look.

As he continued to assess him Hal voiced a warning to Sam, "Another thing no more threats of shoving any pointed objects into certain orifices if you get my drift. Poor Betsy does this out of love ya know as for sure the pay is no reward for all the care and dedication she puts into the job."

"I'm sorry ma'am, it won't happen again," muttered Sam meekly at the nurse, a blush spreading across his cheeks at the memory of his strong language of earlier.

As she adjusted the mask over his face Betsy smiled back her understanding, "All forgotten Mr Winchester."

Dimples deepened briefly before Sam pulled the mask away to insist breathlessly, "It's Sam. Mr Winchester makes me sound real old like my dad."

"Less of the old if you don't mind son," growled back the deep tenor of John's voice as he came into view. There was an awkward silence as he stood at the foot of the bed and assessed his boy, his mouth thinning to a tight line on seeing the IV line and oxygen mask in place.

Hal sucked back his disappointment at how quickly the wariness clouded Sam's eyes again and how his head had slumped back onto the pillow letting the oxygen mask act as an instant silencer. Turning away Hal found asking testily demanding of the taller man, "So I guess Jay's filled you in then?"

John nodded trying desperately to hide his disquiet at the continued lack of a welcome from his son or the fact that he was hooked up to a variety of machines. Casting a critical eye at Hal he answered his question, "Yeah, Josh said its pneumonia like before."

"Bronchial, but fingers crossed that we've caught it in it's early stages. At the moment he's got a low grade fever and needs the support of oxygen so he won't be tap dancing out of this place anytime in a hurry."

"How long a stay?" asked John directly, his question almost a carbon copy of the one Sam had asked earlier.

Schooling his features to hide his growing irritation Hal muttered back, "Hopefully only till the end of the week, maybe sooner if he rests up and doesn't cause any trouble."

John digested the information and shook his head, his jaw set and gaze flinty as he responded firmly, "He won't."

Hal bit back an acidic response at John's terse demeanour and instead turned back to his now very silent patient, "Sam I need go talk to Dr Collier. He will be your attending physician during your stay here. He's a good man, bit low on the humour front but he is one of the best chest specialist around so go easy on him. Especially none of that famous Winchester bitching till you're off the oxygen at least."

Envy eating at him John watched how Sam looked up at Hal with a measure of trust that he seemed to have lost. Before he could bite down on his tongue to stop the words from spilling out he found himself repeating himself, "Like I said I know my boy and he won't cause any trouble. Not if I have anything to say about."

Hal snapped his head round at John, irritation clear on his face as he spat back, "Yay for you! Still you've gotta thank that pesky little something called pneumonia in helping you reach that empathic level of understanding with your boy."

The air sizzled with tension as John eyes glittered dangerously, and he growled out a warning as he towered over the younger man, "Don't start this up. Not here."

Refusing to be intimidated Hal scathingly added, "Don't what? Remind you that you were the one who said your boy was only 'playing up' and didn't need to see a doctor. So forgive me if I don't feel particularly trusting in your ability to play the concerned daddy here."

Knuckles whitening as he balled his fists John tried to keep his growing temper under control, knowing the last thing he needed was to be hauled away by security for knocking Birdstom's head off his scrawny shoulders. "Keep your smart-alecky remarks zipped. You know diddly squat when it comes to me and my boys, best you remember that."

Sam eyed the two men in alarm, awaiting the explosion to come. He knew Birdstrom was on dangerous ground as no one ever dared talk to his dad like that and stayed standing. Not for long anyways. The anxious wait triggered a coughing fit that brought the nurse to his side in an instant. A withering look was sent to both men as she muttered out loud, "Men and their pissing contests."

Despite her slender frame she had managed to haul Sam up to a sitting position in one easy move, bracing one hand against his shoulder whilst the other started to thump out a rhythm on his back to ease the congestion clogging his lungs and airway.

Eyes watering as the coughing spasm continued Sam wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and pretend his dad wasn't there to see him hacking up half a lung. The last thing he needed was for him to see just how pathetic he was by falling sick all over again and yet here was being supported by a mere slip of a nurse as he struggled to draw breath. Life could well and truly suck at time, especially if your name was Sam Winchester.

Guilt ate away at Hal at being stupid enough to loose his cool with boy's father and he tried to offset it by going back into full doctor mode, his argument with John put firmly on the back burner as he slipped back to Sam's side. He threw the nurse a sheepish smile in apology as he lent over to adjust the oxygen flow and waited for the last hacking spasm to ease off before engaging him directly, "Hey Sam I know this seems scary but just take long steady breaths and let the O2 work its magic."

Sam glanced wearily up at Hal before closing his eyes, trying to follow his instructions waiting for the heavy weight sitting on his chest to lift. It felt like he was in danger of drowning as he struggled to draw in air and he pushed the mask hard against his face, wondering when the suffocating sensation would lessen.

"That's is Sam, long slow breaths," said Hal in encouragement, eyes looking at his oxygen saturation levels with a slight frown. He checked Sam's pulse again to find it racing and winced at feeling the growing warmth coming from the kid. With pneumonia it wasn't uncommon for patients, especially children, to spike high temperatures and he guessed they were all in for rough night if not the next couple of days in getting things back under control.

Sam was now visibly shivering as he fought against the infection eating away inside of him and he admitted, "Don't feel so good Bird. Kind of sucks big time this not breathing thing."

Another coughing fit took over and with a bank alarms going off Hal took over the repetitive thumping on Sam's back as he barked out instructions to the nurse to get some additional medication.

After another minute the coughing lessened to just a long rattling wheeze and Hal cupped Sam's chin, raising his lolling head up to make eye contact. "Okay Sam you did good. I know your tired, so I'm going to add something sweet to that bag of stuff we've got you hooked up too. It's just a mild sedative and fever reducer. Your going to feel a little drowsy in a few minutes but don't fight it, you need to rest, okay?"

Blinking slowly Sam nodded his understanding his only concern now was to draw in enough oxygen not to pass out. Fainting like a girl really would be the last straw he reckoned with his dad scrutinising him by the foot of the bed. As the pain eased in his chest he managed to splutter out, "Drugs the stronger the better sound just fine right about now.

Giving him an appraising look Hal shrugged slightly, "So I'm guessing you won't be fighting me anymore on staying put in your own private room at Hotel County?"

Glassy eyed Sam managed a soft snort of agreement before he felt himself being guided back down on to the bed and his gaze drifted past the doctor towards his dad, still wondering when the explosion would occur that would knock Hal on to his ass.

Seeing where Sam's gaze had travelled too Hal guilty offered up an indirect apology to both Winchester men, "I'm sorry my mouth ran away with me a while back, guess it's be a long day for all of us and I'm just a little bit on the side of crabby."

Sam managed a flash of dimples and whispered back, his voice muffled by the mask, "Understatement dude!"

All business again Hal snapped back, "Anyway just rest up and Dr Collier will be around later to assess you. Remember to keep those Winchester melodramatics under wraps and do not under any circumstances attempt any great escapes back to your brother. You hear me Sam?"

When Sam threw him a look he couldn't quite decipher Hal sighed shaking his head, wondering not for the first time what went on in the boy's head at times, "Look just use the call button if you need anything. Nurse Betsy knows she can page me anytime, for anything. I'm only seconds away."

Sam mutely nodded his agreement, trying to disguise his discomfort at Birdie leaving him alone with his dad but too proud to voice his fear. Besides he figured if his dad was going to tear strips off him again it was best he didn't have an audience to witness his further humiliation.

As he went to leave Hal leant in and whispered to John some telling advice, "He'll be asleep in a few minutes so just spare enough time to let him know you actually give a damn here. The kid deserves that much."

John recoiled from the doctor's words and found himself defending himself again, "He's my baby boy Hal. I know what you're thinking, that I got things wrong again, but no father should have to see their kid sick like this."

Hal sniffed slightly but didn't argue the point. He threw Sam one last look just hoping he was doing the right thing by leaving him alone with his father before making his exit.

As the room emptied John took a long steadying breath and turned back to his son who studiously kept his face in profile. It had frightened him to see his son struggling only seconds earlier to just breathe and he wondered how sensible it was for him to be left alone with him. Especially whenever lately he opened his mouth it would seemed to only cause more upset with his child.

The hiss of the oxygen machine punctuated the unnatural silence between them whilst his tummy did flip-flops at noticing just how frail his son actually seemed. The return of illness had stripped him of any pretence of health and more telling the fresh scrapes on his face stood out vivid against his chalky complexion, a reminder of his freshly minted encounter with an angry spirit.

Bowing his head John's thoughts swirled in disarray, knowing that it had been his harsh words that had forced Sam out there to face that unnatural entity all on his own. And all because he had let the worry for one son out weigh his concern for another.

As he watched Sam he knew that Birdstrom's anger had been justified as even now the hunter inside of him was just itching to ask his boy just how he had exorcised the spirit that had near killed his brother all on his own? What had actually played out between him leaving the cabin and making his way back to the hospital? There was a gap in his son's life, a large hole, he needed answers to but he swallowed back the urge to ask. Questions could wait till later, when his boy was strong enough to hit him square in the face of truth of what had happened.

Rubbing the palm of his hand against gritty eyes John let out deep exhale hoping for some chance to get past the barriers that stood between them again he softly called out, "Sam?"

He got no reaction and his guts twisted inside out at his son's defiant silence. Breathing a little harder he tried to steady himself, resting his hands on the metal frame at the foot of the bed readying his weary body for the challenge of getting himself heard by his suddenly deaf youngest.

Casting an eye over his son John froze on seeing idle fingers picking at the fresh bandage covering his son's right hand. A judder ran through him, recalling Joshua's bitter admission on just how fragile his son's state of mind had been that night he hooked his fist into a mirror. A night he had turned his son away and not cared to think of the damage he was doing.

Now he could see that as strong as Sam was there was a limit to what he could take without starting to break. Dean's injuries and a dead boy's ghost were only partially to blame for his son's state of mind, the truth being, unpalatable as it was, it had been his own thoughtless actions that had done more to push his boy towards the edge. Now it was up to him to pull him back.

With Hal's warning still ringing in his ears he struggled to find an opening line of dialogue and with his voice sounding weak to his own ears finally managed to splutter out, "Come on son, its not gonna kill you to look at your old man is it?"

John waited patiently for a response and got none, Sam seemingly more fixated on inspecting his bandaged hand than willing to listen to anything he had to say. Persevering he tried again, trying to keep his tone as light as possible, "You know I've not seen you have a major sulk like this since you were a three year old and found out you couldn't have freckles like your brother. Knew then I was going to have my hands full with you kiddo!"

A mutter of frustration escaped on seeing his son stiffen at his feeble attempts at humour and John snapped out a little harsher than intended, "Look I know you falling sick again wasn't on the agenda but it has and we have to deal with it."

He got his son's full attention with that last remark as Sam broke his silence by tugging away his mask and gasped back guiltily, "I didn't mean too. I know what you must think, that like usual I've let you all down again."

Visibly sagging at his son's anguished denial John's tried to dismiss any such expectations from him. "Jeez Sam is that what you think? As stupid as it may seem these things just happen."

Shaking his head Sam heard only one word his dad had just said, "Stupid? Yeah that's my middle name isn't it sir? Guess even by the age of three you knew my worth."

"Stop putting words into my mouth," pleaded John wishing he could find the necessary verbal skills to paper over the cracks ever widening between the two of them, "You think it's fun for me to watch you lie sick in bed again? You think it will be fun having to tell your brother that I let this happen a second time round?"

Slowly Sam digested his words before the panic set in and he shot up, eyes pleading as he gasped out, "Nuh, uh Hal promised that Dean wouldn't have to find out. I got his skull cracked open and now you want to risk him blowing an aneurysm all cos' I'm to dumb to take care of myself."

The father in John kicked into action and he firmly pulled the oxygen mask back into place, his voice bitter with regret, "Stop it Sam. Just stop it."

When Sam continued to pull against his mask John was forced to put a restraining hand on his shoulder wincing out loud at the heat radiating from him before firmly pushing him back down the bed, "You need to calm down or you'll only make things worse."

It was an order, softly spoken in direction, but an order nonetheless. Years of listening to his dad's commands kicked in and the fight drained out of Sam. Listlessly his head sank back onto the pillow knowing that it was pointless to resist and he offered an apology in defeat, "I'm sorry Sir."

Daring to smooth a light hand over the crown of Sam's damp head John blinking against the sting of his own tears admitted, "Oh no son, no more than me I promise you. No more than me."

Sam pulled his mask aside again and pleaded again, "I know I screwed up and I don't have the right to ask this but if you tell Dean about me being sick you know he won't take care of himself. I've caused enough damage to him, don't let me do more."

John's parked his face into neutral hiding the emotions raging inside of him, even managing to keep his voice level as he dared ask, "You really want me to lie to your brother? About something like this?"

Sam looked away not able endure the censure in his dad's eyes and whispered back a reply, "If it means he gets the chance to get better… then yeah that's what I'm asking here Sir."

Guilt tore threw John then, knowing that in confessing all about Burnett he had neared destroyed his relationship with Dean but worse still was the dread building up inside of him at having to face that task all over again if Dean's memory didn't return.

With a shaky voice he admitted, "I don't know. Remember what happened last time you asked me to lie to your brother. He didn't take it very well, near knocked my block off and things got pretty bad for a while between us."

Struggling to keep his tears at bay Sam confessed back breathlessly, "I'm sorry that I made Dean angry at you, or that I made things so complicated."

John leant in and pulled the oxygen mask back into place once more, lifting a warning finger when Sam went to argue his point further, "Your right, things are a little complicated right now, but we can work past it all. You have to believe that Sam."

Sam sagged his head back on the pillow feeling utterly spent. His dad's honesty whilst welcome also pulled away his emotional defences and this time he couldn't stop a lone tear from falling as he finally admitted, "I know you must hate me cos' I got Dean hurt but I never meant it to happen. Not ever."

A calloused thumb rubbed away the errant tear as John whispered softly in return, "I know that son. I know."

Eyes glittering bright with further unshed tears Sam dared to voice the fear that had been driving him frantic with worry the last few days, "He said he could never hate me, but what if he does. What do I do then?"

Gently John squeezed his son's bandaged hand in reassurance, his voice thick with emotion, "Your brother would forgive you anything Sam. If he hates anyone it's going to be me as I let things go wrong so badly."

As John watched his son struggle to regulate his breathing he could feel a level of urgency thrumming through him that left him worried. He knew that his child needed to hear something more concrete and he found himself saying, "Listen up boy, I'll keep my mouth zipped in telling your brother about this, if you promise to concentrate on getting better. We have a deal here Sam?"

He was rewarded by a wary nod and he continued knowing in some part this was a let out clause for him too, "God knows your right in thinking that if your brother finds out that your two floors below stuck in a bed with pneumonia he'd have a fit."

Sam sucked in his relief at having reached some sort of agreement with his father. A truce, limited as it was, that might enable him to tell Dean the truth without having to risk more harm to him.

Heavy lidded the adrenaline that had kept him going deserted him and need for sleep became almost overwhelming but he managed to whisper a return, "I got to make it right again, got have that chance to get my brother back dad."

John's hand tightened over his son's hand at hearing his title returned to him, "Shush boy, things will be okay. You have to trust me here and believe in your dad to make things right again."

For a long second Sam kept his gaze absorbing his dad's words and finding comfort there before finally his lids grew to heavy and they fell shut, just as the rest of his body gave into its need for rest.

John marvelled at the transformation that his words had done to his son, the anxiety that had marred his features only moments before vanishing to leave him looking impossibly young again and free of worry.

Coursing thick fingers over the unruly mop of hair he brushed the bangs aside and drank in the smell of his sleeping boy. It was a mixture of soap, dirt and sweat wrapped up in an essence that Dean would label as pure Sammy. He held onto his boy, not yet a man, whom he had almost lost again because of his temper and pride. Now he had another chance to make things right again and he was determined not to fail either of his boys again.

Murmuring over the crown of his son's head John confessed, "I need you to forgive me also Sammy. Remember that when all this is over and done with, please son."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

_Later that week…._

Stroking his chin, feeling the soft whiskers that had grown there over the past few days, John marvelled at how quickly his oldest was healing, almost on a par with Sam. If he didn't know better he would have sworn that both his boys were psychically linked in a game of one up-man-ship to see who would get out of bed first. Still by his reckoning Sammy was going to beat his brother by short hand and that sat fine with him.

Dean not for the first time that day huffed out a deep sigh, bored beyond belief at his enforced hospital stay. He had tried to make an escape last night only to find his legs wouldn't support his weight and that his co-ordination was still shot to hell. After his nose almost coming way to close to the tiles on the floor he was now almost under house arrest, with the very suspect Nurse Mandy firmly on guard when his dad or Joshua weren't around.

Now as he pushed bullet-sized peas around a mound of congealed meatloaf and gravy he found himself asking again, "When does Sam get to visit dad? This place sucks big time and I could do with the runt's skewed view of the world as a diversion from the bad food and suspect nurses."

Smiling John snapped back, "So my company's not good enough for you all of a sudden?"

"I'd me more appreciative if you snuck in a quarter-pounder and cherry pie. Then when you've done that you can get that uber-scary Nurse Mandy relocated. I've lost all enthusiasm for bed baths after that _she_ left very suspect paw prints all over me this morning," He shuddered at the memory of earlier then refocused his attention to his primary concern. "So about my brother? You gonna bring him round today?"

"Son you know the docs won't let him back until he gets the all clear. I think another day or two and then he'll be able to visit."

"I'll take the risk. I just wanna see the squirt."

Having perfected the lie over the last few days the words slipped easily off John's tongue, "You know a dose of flu and a skull fracture just isn't a good combo son. "

Flicking a pea in high arc across the room Dean grunted his disapproval. "Not as if there's not a thousand other bugs in this flea bitten place that I might have already been exposed to. I think I can risk the sniffles for a day or two."

"Not until Sam's got the all clear Dean and that's final."

Not liking the answer Dean looked across to the window at the steadily falling snow and the white covered vista beyond and admitted, "Gotta be hell driving out there at the moment? If it keeps up you might not be able to bring Sam back anytime soon so why not smuggle in him tonight along with that burger and pie? Just a few minutes dad, that's all. Ten minutes max!"

Ignoring the fact that he hadn't driven anywhere in days John shrugged and said, "Look a few snowflakes isn't going to stop your old man from bringing your brother back so just quit your fretting."

Dean frowned before fingering at his bandaged head, still struggling to put together a variety of splintered images that littered his dreams and waking thoughts, "I know I'm not exactly firing on all cylinders but things are still really fuzzy, especially anything after California. I know you've tried to fill in the gaps the best you can dad but its still like I'm looking at a broken jigsaw puzzle and none of the pieces wanna fit together."

"I know Dean, and as it stands the doctors say there's a strong possibility that you'll never get that missing time back. You just have to be thankful that a few fried memory cells are the only lasting damage here. It could have been far worse."

"Yeah I suppose," agreed Dean softly before he finally admitted. "Thing is that I keep having these weird flash back moments about the kid, that he's nothing like the tanned aqua boy I remember back in Santa Barbara."

Realising that he was in danger of doing more harm than good by holding back an explanation John offered up, "Well gotta say a lots changed since we left California. The Wisconsin winter has bleached the color right off Sam and being sick has made him drop the weight. He's not going to be that boy you remember that's for sure kiddo."

Swallowing hard Dean snapped back, "Not a pretty picture your painting here of my brother, dad. Makes him sound like a walking bag of bones."

"I know," sighed John in apology, "Still it hasn't helped that the kid must have grown another inch or two. He's all gangly long arms and legs with not an ounce of fat to spare. That's what you're remembering I'm guessing…him shooting up again like a beanstalk and all."

"Yeah," answered Dean shakily, "Must be that." John heaved out a deep breath in relief, glad the lie was holding before Dean gasped out, "Shit another inch, maybe two! How the hell did you let that happen dude?"

Laughing at the miserable expression settling on Dean's face John answered, "Sorry son but my guess is that brother of yours has a fair bit more of growing to go still. Might even outstrip me if he keeps this up."

Grousing bitterly Dean pushed the plate away with a hard shove, "Just isn't natural to have a little brother taller than his older and better looking sibling."

John laughed again, "Okay Dean if it makes it any easier just imagine all the growing pains he's having to suck up. You remember how miserable they made you when you went through that growth spurt in the eleventh grade?"

"Oh yeah achy bones and sore muscles…could never get comfortable, it was sheer torture for a while." A malicious grin lifted Dean's feature as he added, "That'll teach the kid to wanna be a human giraffe."

Glancing at his watch John realised it would soon be time for Dean to have his next course of medication and the chance to talk with him would be lost for another good few hours, "Listen you know your brother would be here if he could. It's killing him being kept away like this, especially when he feels so guilty about what happened."

Shooting his dad an exasperated look Dean quickly shot back, "Hey I may not remember what happened in all its nasty glory but one thing I do know is that my brother would never deliberately get me hurt. Kid would sooner rip out his own heart than do that."

John nodded his agreement and Dean added, "Besides from what Joshua let slip it was me that charged head first at an angry spirit so go figure how few brain cells I was using that day? None of this is Sammy's fault and you best be telling him that dad."

"I know son, I'm trying real hard with the boy," admitted John. "But you know how he gets thing in his head and won't let them go. You getting hurt like this has knocked the wind out of his sails."

Unable to stifle a yawn Dean battled against his growing fatigue and growled back his intent, "Better get ready my discharge papers dad as I thinking I'm going home tomorrow as it sounds like Sammy needs his big brother to sort out the insides of that freaky head of his."

"No way son," smiled John glad at his boy's fresh determination and rallying spirits. "You know you have to give it another three days at least to see how you react to being weaned off all that stuff they have you on. Gonna have to have some patience here Dean. No running before you can walk."

Before Dean could argue any further Nurse Mandy made her entrance, broad shoulders pulling tight against her pale pink scrubs. Dean eyed the familiar pale scarf wrapped determinedly around her neck with suspicion, wondering just how large the Adam's apple was hidden behind it.

Armed with tray of medication in meaty hands Mandy's deep voice sent a shiver down Dean's spine, "Time for your top-you-ups sweetie."

Dean threw his dad a dark stare and spat back, "Time for another round of torture is what you actually mean dude!"

John automatically shifted off the bed to stand, stifling a giggle as he gave the nurse access to his son, managing a polite, 'Ma'am."

"You're no fun, anyone ever tell you that Man-deee," pouted Dean as he watched her dole out a selection of brightly coloured pills into little paper cups.

After watching his son swallow one after the others the pills he waited for them to take effect. Soon he could see Dean's head starting to droop and he took that as his cue to leave and to return to his other's son's fractious bedside.

"Hey dad, reckon we've gotta fatten the kid up again, " called out Dean, even half asleep tuned in enough to dad to pick up when he tried to sneak away, "You know Sammy can't be a champion surfer if the first gust of wind picks his skinny ass off the board."

John shook his head, recalling how enthusiastic Dean had been about his brother's surfing prowess and sadly how he had failed to see him even once in action on the waves. Seeing Dean's hooded gaze still fixed on him he leant in, "Listen you can rag on your brother about being too thin when he's up to visiting. Now get some rest and I'll see what I can do about that order of cherry pie."

Dean screwed up his face, as a memory of force-feeding his brother his favorite foods flashed in his head. "No pie for Sammy dad. Donuts. That's the trick."

Laughing softly John voiced his agreement, "No problemo son I'll pick up a box of jelly donuts from the bakery for the boy."

Dean snapped his eyes open, battling the effects of the drugs and shook his head, "No dude get the vanilla crème filled ones. Sammy likes them, hates jelly…."

Nodding his agreement John felt belittled again by the simplest of things. He should have at least known what donuts Sam liked yet here again he had a half doped up Dean pointing out that he knew his son far better than he ever could. Tiredly he agreed, "Sure son, vanilla crème it is."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Despite the persistent remnants of a fever that left him muzzy headed and tired, along with the heavy ache that still persisted in his chest, Sam reasoned he was well enough to be go home. Home being two floors above where his brother was. He had done what Birdie had asked of him, bitten his tongue on many occasion and not caused any trouble, but now half a week later he was still stuck in bed with the threat of another three days on top of that.

Sourly he muttered under his breath, "Three days my freaking ass." Doctor Collier was wrong, he'd be out by tonight or by the latest tomorrow if he got his way. Either that or he really would do a Spiderman and go up the side of the building.

Joshua walked back into the room and caught the determined expression on the teenager's face and realised they were in for trouble namely that of the seriously pissed off Sam Winchester type. He had overhead Collier's assessment and could only guess at what various strategies of escape that were already being plotted out in the kid's head. One thing you could always count on the boy was to think a thing through at a hundred different angles. Too freaking smart for his own good at times he reckoned and too scarily determined not to try and keep a much closer eye on him now.

Coughing softly out his presence he was met by a fierce stare and he smiled a false bright smile, "So dude I overhead Collier say your making a great improvement and should be out of here by the end of the week."

"Screw that numb-nut Collier," grumbled back Sam, turning on his side so that didn't have to look at the way too cheerful man. "And screw the fucking end of the week."

Joshua laughed despite himself and knew there was not a cat in hells chance of Dr Collier or his dad keeping him in bed till then. Sure the boy still looked like a bleached out washrag but at least he was now breathing unaided and more importantly his sarcastic mouth was back in full force. All clear signs to him that he was well on the road to recovery and that suited him just fine.

Squatting on the foot of the bed Joshua nudged Sam's knee to get his attention. "Ya think you'd stop being a bear with a sore head if we can get you sprung sooner?" He felt Sam stiffen beside him and continued, "If I speak with Bird maybe he can get old sour puss Collier to release you back to his care."

In an instant Sam spun back round with a winning grin lighting up his whole face on realising that he had the support of the older hunter. "Really Josh, I can get out today you think?"

"Hey don't push your luck kid. Tomorrow maybe if Hal thinks your up to it. Besides I still need to work the old charm offensive on your dad. He's gonna want proof that your not going to plant that ugly face of your onto the linoleum on standing. You've already scared the crap out him enough this month kiddo."

Dimples flashed deep as Sam took in the intent behind Joshua's word and he nodded his head enthusiastically, "Man you can wrap me up like a baby and carry me out of here in a papoose as long as I get out of here."

Joshua laughed again and ruffled Sam's heavy mop of hair before a hand came up to swat him away. Half in warning he snapped back, "Don't make me regret sticking my neck out like this dude. It's already been on the chopping block enough times this month to leave me feeling a turkey looking up at the axe in Farmer John's hand..."

Sam gave him a shy look all too aware that Joshua was putting himself out there as his own personal shield again, "I promise, hand over my heart no chestnut stuffing for you man."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Against his better judgement John had caved into the three-pronged attack from Hal, Joshua and his determined younger son. Now a day later he was leading Sam back up to Dean and it left him with butterflies dancing in his tummy, wondering if he was doing the right thing.

Sam looked still frighteningly pale, thinner than ever and he doubted without the support of his arm that he would have been able to walk unaided. Still he couldn't fight down his pride in his boy. His muscles may have trembled with each step but that was matched with a fierce determination that always seemed to drive him onwards. Getting back to his brother was his sole motivation and he could deny him this no longer.

As he guided Sam into the room the air became charged as two sets of green eyes took in the sight of each other. Dean's jaw fell open slightly, unable to mask his shock and he shook his head in denial as he asked, "Sam, seriously dude what the fuck have you done to yourself?"

"Got sick is all," Sam whispered shyly, his throat muscles tightening when he took in his brother's shaved head and the dressing covering the top of his skull before the ability of speech completely deserted him.

Dean motioned for him to come closer and his face pinched up at the sight before him. His brother looked exactly as his dad had warned him about and he shook his head in disbelief, "You look like crap little brother."

A thin laugh escaped from Sam before he was able to say, "Right back at you."

John stood in the doorway watching his two sons try to hide their emotions behind long built walls wondering if he needed to break the silence building between them. There was no need as Dean stepped back into the role earmarked for him from the moment Sammy was born and beckoned for his brother to come closer, "Come here kid, not gonna bite you know."

Sam tentatively stepped up to the bed only to be pulled forwards into a tight bear hug as strong arms wrapped around him. For all his fifteen years of trying to be match his dad's ideals that emotions were a bust he found himself burying his head into his brother's chest, needing this contact far to much to worry about what his dad might think of him right now.

Dean looked over to his dad, saw the glint of unshed tears darkening his eyes and his heart beat a little unsteady, wondering what the hell had really happened to his brother to leave him looking so completely broken. Ghosting a hand over his back he whispered into his ear, "Its okay kid. Big brother is almost as good a new. Gonna be out of here in a day or two and cause havoc like always. Hear the girls in Wisconsin are big chested and aim to please…"

When he got no response, feeling only a wetness seeping through his pyjama tops Dean felt even more worried. His brother was crying. Something he hadn't witnessed freely in almost half a decade. "Oh god Sammy please don't…. I'm fine… really I am."

John watched his youngest curl into his brother and wondered if he should try and intervene. A warning hand from Dean kept him in the doorway and he knew that for now he was really surplus to requirements in their recovery. They had what they both needed, each other, and he simply nodded his understanding and left.

Dean tightened his hold on his brother's painfully thin frame, fearing that he would never be able to find his voice again when he heard Sam whisper a breathless apology, "I'm so sorry Dean. So sorry."

Instead of answering he just continue to rub a comforting circle on his back, wincing each time he felt a rib under his fingers. Finally his frozen larynx eased up enough for him to whisper a denial. "Got nothing to say sorry for Sam."

He felt Sam shake his head in contradiction as he stuttered out "Got you near killed Dean. You… must hate me."

"You're my brother for Christ sake where do you get to thinking that I could ever hate you kiddo."

Sam pulled up his head and locked eyes with his brother, still swimming with unshed tears, "You said that once before…and I wanted to believe you, but I got you hurt and you almost died because of it."

Frowning, wondering when he had said such words to his brother Dean knew he had this one chance to lift that burden of guilt dragging his brother under. "Sam if it didn't look like I'd snap something vital I'd shake some sense into you here. Listen there are times when I might want to beat the crap out of you for being such a smart ass, but hate you? Don't think so kiddo."

When he felt Sam shake his head against his chest he quickly added, "No matter what shit happens you're my brother. You understand me here? Nothing will ever stop that."

Tears spilled freely again as Sam choked out loud his fears, "I watched you almost die Dean. There was so much blood and I couldn't stop it. I tried, but it was everywhere, in the snow, soaked into my jacket, all over us. And you wouldn't wake up, and I thought…" His voice broke again before he could add, "I thought I'd killed you."

Struggling to keep his own tears in check Dean pulled his brother's head back onto his chest and fiercely whispered a return, "A little birdie told me that I was the idiot that stepped in between you and an angry spirit. Said that you stopped it from finishing me off, so as I see it you're the only reason why I'm still here kiddo. "

"I thought you were going to leave me all alone," whispered back Sam confessing to his deepest fear. "Don't do that ever will you Dean?"

Dean struggled down some air, his chest tightening at his brother's anguished words and he managed to growl back, "Not going anywhere fast squirt. You're stuck with me for a long time yet."

Sam pulled a shirt cuff over his eyes, suddenly feeling a little foolish at crying so freely, "Ah god, now you'll think me such a girl."

"Nah, already knew that Samantha."

"Jerk," whispered back Sam, happily rubbing away the last remnants of tears from his cheeks.

"Bitch," smirked back Dean still unwilling to let go of his little brother, afraid of the damage all of this had done to him. He held onto his wrist and demanded, "Sam we okay here now?"

"Yeah Dean. I think so."

"Good cos' man you look like your in need of some serious big brother input here. Gotta sort this manorexic look your sporting or you'll never get laid."

With a deep chuckle that floored Dean his brother admitted with a mischievous smirk, "Your too late to be worrying about that big brother. Way too late…"

EPILOGUE TO FOLLOW

_Yeah I know promised to end it here, but I really do have a need to kick all the little plot bunnies into the back of net and finish it up with a sense of finality for both brothers. Just a short one to follow all entwined with brotherly love ala Winchester style. Reviews as always warmly devoured. Rozzy. . _


	19. Chapter 19

Usual disclaimers apply, along with all mistakes been down to my own stupidity. Real life has been a stinker so my apologies in not getting this up sooner. I know its been a long wait and this is a long chapter too I'm afraid… but it is the final one! Despite my tardiness feedback always appreciated. Rozzy

**Growing Pains – Chapter 19: Superglue and a brother's love.**

Watching his brother make familiar moves on the pretty waitress Sam smiled despite himself. Dean's devilish grin spoke volumes, that he truly was back fighting fit, all set to literally charm the panties of the red headed girl buckling under his verbal persuasion. The fact that he had been kept him under virtual house arrest since his discharge from hospital was making this even sweeter he guessed for his brother, the warnings of abstaining from doing anything remotely naughty well and truly put on the back burner for the rest of the night he figured.

For his own part his initial reservation at breaking their dad's curfew had evaporated the moment the music was cranked up way too loud in the impala and his brother's snarky mouth went into overdrive. For Sam the journey into town had been a happy reminder of just how much he had missed his brother and all the mental and physical jostling that went with it.

Feeling a little silly at the grin he knew he had on his face Sam looked away and started to mentally chew over a myriad of thoughts stuck in his head as he waited for his brother's return. With Dean well again he could dare to think the timing right to put an end to the lies that had built an uncomfortable wall between them. No matter how painful it might be Sam knew he had to find a way to tell all to all the mistakes he had made. It wasn't going t be easy he figured, guessing that Dean was going to be as mad as hell with him but he hoped deep down inside that he would be forgiven. Its what brothers did he reasoned.

Mind made up Sam looked over to his brother once more only to catch the final moment when Dean cinched his win over the girl as a paper napkin was folded suggestively into his hand. That same instance the truth sunk in that his brother was well on his way to scoring a home run which meant he was going to go home empty handed and he murmured his disquiet, "Oh shit!"

To return to the cabin without his wayward brother seemed almost suicidal. Dad for sure was going to skin him alive. He swallowed back another groan because as much as he wanted things back to normal he really wasn't prepared to have that part of the Winchester family dynamics restored so soon with him and his dad.

Dean returned back to the booth waiving the napkin with a phone number scribbled on it under his brother's nose, "Little brother Charlene is a go!"

"Poor thing need glasses much?" shrugged back Sam, still wondering how he was going survive his dad's anger. The imagery of the man spitting out verbal bullets, with him being the primary target, caused a small judder to run through him.

Sensitive still to his overly cropped hair Dean missed his brother's shiver and instead snapped back, "Hey even on a bad hair day I still got it Sammy. Now whose jealous _much_?"

Sam merely rolled his eyes keen to avoid getting into a nitpicking argument over something as stupid as his brother's libido. Shrugging his indifference he returned his attention back to his milkshake, letting the wonderful flow of overly thick chocolate milk still a sarcastic response.

As he sat back down Dean's grin intensified as he caught sight of a large burger stacked high on the plate. It glistened with the promise of enough grease to slide down his throat with satisfying ease. Small town pokey or not Baudette it seemed served up the best looking burgers in the western hemisphere along with some pretty hot girls too.

Rubbing his hands in anticipation he was all set for taking his first bite when he caught a glint in his brother's eyes that sent the warning bells clanging loud in his head and he spat out sourly, "You'd better have not touched this when my back was turned you little brat or so help you…"

"What?" responded Sam, almond eyes wide pools of innocence before ducking his head low so that his long bangs covered his face, intent on finishing off his milkshake rather than deal with his brother's accusatory stare.

Still on high alert Dean lifted up the bun for any visual surprises to find none but doubt still lingered and he threw his brother a warning, "If you've messed with my food when my back was turned you'll be tasting the inside of a lavatory bowl for the next month."

Dimples flashed despite his determination to keep a straight face and Sam was forced to shake his head in denial, "You know paranoia isn't an attractive look big brother."

"Seriously you better have not touched my food you little douche bag!" warned Dean again.

Shrugging Sam denied any wrongdoing, "Look the half dead cow on your plate is exactly as it was when dumped on the table. Either eat it or throw it in the trash. Makes no difference to me."

"Now why would I waste a good burger like that?" growled back Dean before ignoring his suspicions to tear out a hefty chunk with one bite. His hard expression melted as his taste buds exploded and through a mouthful of chargrilled meat and toasted bun he moaned out his delight, "Man, this is freaking orgasmic."

Sam groaned at the overt display his brother was making, "Gross, go get a room why don't you. Oh wait you've already booked that with Charlie." When he got only a raised eyebrow he added, "Dad is so going to kill us, me in particular, you know that, right?"

Snorting back his amusement Dean took another huge bite whilst giving him the finger to express his feelings. Words would have been a waste of time and deflected his attention from eating the culinary marvel in his hands he reasoned.

Disgust wrote across Sam's face as he pushed away his plate of a toasted ham and cheese sandwich and growled out bitterly, "I'm going to the head to throw up whatever was left of my appetite. Don't wanna puke over dad's feet when he slowly chokes the life out of me later."

Sam agilely side-stepped the heavy hand aimed at his butt by his brother with a knowing chuckle, because despite everything it was so good to have him back to his normal self again. Still chuckling his amusement his journey to the rest room came to a halt when a decidedly feminine voice called out his name. Turning he was met with a gleaming smile, almost propriety in nature, as the ever-bubbly Trudy Seldon beckoned to him to her.

Stopping was his undoing, as having just escaped his brother's long reach only seconds earlier he wasn't quick enough to evade Trudy's determined grab of him as she snagged his wrist halting any chance of an escape.

Breathlessly she cooed her excitement, "Sam! Oh my god, I was just telling the girls how you did the whole Officer and Gentleman thingy and picked me up when I slid on the ice the other day. Gotta be fate you turning up like this so I can say my thanks properly."

Sam threw Trudy a watery smile and shook his head, "It was no big deal. Anyone else would have done the same I'm sure."

Trudy took his flat denial as a sign of encouragement and patted the empty seat besides here. "Well my poor ankle didn't think so. Come on sit down so I can feed you something sweet to say my thanks."

The other two girls looked on with knowing smiles, eyes darting between the two of them well aware that a hunt was in play and were now left just waiting for the kill.

"No really that's okay…" winced back Sam, still firmly under wrist arrest from the very persistent and surprisingly strong girl.

"If not some dessert now how else can I say my thanks?" asked Trudy, licking her perfectly made up lips suggestively, hoping this might be her much awaited opportunity to get her hooks into Sam. She had managed to wangle a seat next to him in fourth period History but so far, pitiful as it was to admit to, had got absolutely nowhere with him.

A giggle escaped from one of the girls sitting opposite and Trudy threw them both a hard look, "Never mind Verna and Gail, I'm sure they were planning to leave anytime soon Sam."

Using her distraction with her friends as his chance to disentangle himself from her grip Sam said his apologies, "No, really, thanks for the invite but I'm here with my big brother and he isn't fit for company at the best of times." Adding silently, '_Because he's a frigging_ _pig!._'

Trudy's expression fell slightly at the rejection but then she forced another bright smile across her face, persistence ninety-nine percent of her genetic makeup when she wanted something as badly as she wanted the boy in front of her. Leaning forwards, so that her cleavage in her tight top was fully on display she suggested, "Oh well maybe another time then Sam. Next time just you and me, no big brother's or anyone else if you like?"

A blush crept up Sam's long neck and his voice sound lame to his own ears as he tried to extract himself from the sticky situation he found himself in, "Well, umm, I'm kinda busy most nights but thanks anyway. I'll catch up with you in History. Bye."

At break neck speed he took off, feeling the burn of three pairs of predatory female eyes on his back. As he dove into the washroom his thoughts were swirling. Trudy's reputation as a man-eater went before her and the last thing he needed was to have her trying to sit in his lap in History or anywhere else for that matter.

Then a thought hit him and he drew to an abrupt halt letting the door follow through to hit him hard on the backside. Jumping at the contact he shook his head in despair, certain that his big brother would have heard all that had played out with Trudy and her mini harem.

It was ammunition too good not to be used by his brother he reasoned and he groaned out loud. "Shit and double shit."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

John hadn't realised he'd been pacing till the phone rang and he had to turn in mid stride to retrieve it from the sofa. Gruffly he barked out, "Dean you reckless sonofagun you'd better have your brother in tow and be on your way back."

"You mislaid them of boys of yours again?" queried Jim Murphy down the line.

Flopping down onto the tatty sofa John admitted, "The slippery little buggers snuck out on me when I was fixing the plumbing in the bathroom a while back."

Stifling another small chuckle Jim teased his friend, "And you still don't know where they are? Must be that your tracking skills are getting rusty with lack of use old man."

Sighing heavily John confessed, "Dean's teaching his brother more bad tricks if you ask me. Damn idiots disabled my truck, took out the spark plugs and I don't have any spares."

There was a high pitched whine as Jim sucked back the need to laugh, nearly strangling his vocal chords in the process. "Murphy it's not funny. Dean is still on medication and going off to chase some local skirt whilst downing a bottle of tequila isn't the smartest of moves."

Wiping the tears from his eyes Jim could understand John's fatherly concern but could guess at the reasons for Dean's need for some freedom. The cabin was too tiny a place for all three Winchesters to be cooped up in at the best of times. "Sounds to me like Dean is making it known that he's fighting fit again, lets just hope he remembers to line his stomach first before he goes into battle with the local female population. "

"Ha freaking funny old man but your forgetting that whatever Dean is planning on doing he'll be dragging Sammy with him? You really think that boy ready to park his naïve butt in some seedy watering hole whilst some bar whore comes on to him?"

Appalled at the idea Jim voiced his disquiet, "I know he's tall for his age but Lord knows the boy doesn't look old enough to drink beer nether mind tequila. You really think Dean will take him into such a place?"

John snorted out his disbelief, "Dean and his downstairs brain are a law unto themselves. Wouldn't put anything past the little punk. You know I could strangle him with my own hands for being such a smart ass and taking off with his brother like this."

"So this is all about you protecting young Samuel and not the fact that your newly recovered oldest son disabled your truck then?"

Sucking in a slow breath John admitted, "You hit low preacher, anyone ever tell you that? A man's wheels should be sacrosanct. Maybe strangling is to quick a punishment after all."

"Yep that's the Daddy Winchester I know and love so well." Murphy paused then found himself asking, "You know with your boys taking off like this could be a good thing as being on neutral ground might loosen things up for them. Help clear the air."

"If you say so," muttered back John a little uncomfortable at the direction the conversation was going and pointedly asked instead, "So you hear from Josh recently?"

"Deflection much man!" laughed Jim softly at his friend's attempt to turn the conversation, "From all accounts Joshua and Birdie are having a great vacation, but you know I didn't ring you to talk about those two reprobates."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

"Its too hot," whined Hal, dappling at the sweat beading his forehead whilst hopping from foot to foot. "The stupid sand is giving me second degree burns."

"Told you to put something on your feet," huffed back Joshua. He tipped the bottle of beer back and took a long swig, the cold liquid refreshing in the stifling heat of midday. His sandaled feet offered enough protection against the fiery golden sand to leave him comfortable and he grinned at his friend's discomfort.

"I need another drink," muttered Hal heading back to the wooden shack that offered the promise of some much needed shade.

Joshua bellowed out loudly, "Hey Harry, heads up, Birdie needs another banana daiquiri."

The trio of bikini clad girls draped by the hotel pool all turned to his voice and Hal cringed at the fresh attention, his pink skin darkening as he muttered darkly, "Bitch."

Harry the bartender merely nodded his agreement and muttered softly, "Guess you want the usual?"

"Well of course I do," growled back Bird, bristling under the man's knowing smirk. "A daiquiri would be naked without the umbrella and cherries."

Harry smiled wide at Hal, his gold front tooth glinting brightly in the sunlight before pouring out the golden liquid into a cocktail glass and adding the flourish of a neon pink paper umbrella and fruits, "I like you man, you know what you want and don't let no one stop you from having it."

Hal received his drink with a smile of thanks and slurped noisly, the cold drink refreshing in the hot midday sun. As he munched on the fruit he leant back to the bartender and offered up his empty glass for a refill, "Don't stint on the cherries this time dude. I've earned every single one of them in that jar you hold in your hands."

The bartender chuckled softly at the pinked skinned American and his growing appetite, "Seems like I best be making these by the jug load for you from now on."

"That my friend is a wise decision to be making as I intend to spend the whole week gloriously drunk," advised Hal, already feeling the fuzzy affects of the alcohol pulsing through his veins.

A shadow loomed over at him and Joshua nudged his shoulder and waggled his eyebrows suggestively, "Dude who would have thought it but it seems the daiquiri did the trick as that hotter than hot babe Sally and her girlfriends have asked us to join them for a few drinks."

Hal whipped his head round to see the voluptuous brunette that had ensnared his attention the moment he walked out on to the beach smiling over at him. Eyes going large he took in the sight before tuning back to Harry with a wide grin, "Were gonna need a bigger jug."

"Oh yeah man, better make them daiquiris by the bucket load as them girls look mighty thirsty," agreed Joshua still firmly sticking to his beer. His decidedly heterosexual looking bottle of beer.

Hal grinned, ignoring the sting of his burnt cheeks, and raised his cocktail glass high, "To them Winchester boys and all your pals that come after them. Long may they keep me accustomed to the finer things of life!"

"Jeez your such a fucking pansy," muttered Joshua sourly in return wondering just how deep this little trip and future trips was going to bite into rapidly depleting trust fund.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

John sighed, knowing exactly what Jim Murphy had been hinting at and the reason why he had actually called, "Nothings changed since last we spoke Jim. You still waiting to hear that Sam's spilled his guts to Dean about how I fucked up with that bastard Burnett."

"Not exactly how I would have worded it but yes I am wondering why the delay. We really just can't carry on pretending to Dean and the World that nothing happened with his little brother?" When he got only silence Murphy added, "I worry about what this will do to the boys in the long run, especially young Samuel."

Hissing out his own frustration John admitted, "Sam's stronger than you give him credit for so stop heaping the neurosis on him. I'm guessing he'll do things as he sees fit or not at all."

Jim's sucked in a harsh breath as the truth hit home, "You're his dad, you should be encouraging him to get this out in the open and not have it brushed under the carpet like this."

Now that his intentions were laid out John felt decidedly uncomfortable at the damnation coming down the line, "Don't make me to be the villain here, you know this is Sam's choice, you forgetting that?"

"No John, it was a choice the boy made out of fear for his brother's health. Now Dean is better he needs the chance to let them both deal with what happened and not bottle it up like this."

"Deal with it? You forgetting how badly Dean dealt with it first time round; how it nearly tore what was left of my family apart? You must excuse me if I don't wanna push the issue here and risk things disintegrating into open warfare like last time."

"You still worried that Dean will take another pop at you?" Jim snapped back, his blood heating on hearing John's take on things and added scathingly, "Are you that scared of losing his respect that its easier to let his brother's silence act as a protective buffer for you both."

The truth hit hard and John defended himself once again, "Think what you like, but dredging up what happened with Burnett is only going to cause fresh grief again. The man's dead, nothing more than a pile of grey ash, and as I see it is well and truly out of my boys lives forever."

There was a pregnant pause before Jim advised, "You know I wish it was that simple but Sheriff McCall and his team are investigating all the stuff Joshua left with him."

Slowly John asked, "And?"

"Think on it man. Soon enough all of Baudette is going to know what that madman did. How do you think Sam is going to feel then? Especially when he won't have his brother to turn to for support."

"He's got me to sound off against," responded John choosing to ignore the derisive snort that came down the line and added, "Look you know I have a new job lined up in New England and now that Dean seems fit to drive we can up sticks and get the hell out of Wisconsin. In a day or two we'll far enough away to avoid any of the potential Burnett fallout crap you're so worried about and maybe be then life can get back to normal."

"Normal for you John leaves me frankly very worried," hissed back Murphy, his frustration growing at the man's blinkered thinking. "You can run as fast as you like from Wisconsin but the truth is going to follow you regardless. It's going to niggle away like a cancer between you and Sam. Just think of the potential for damage this might do."

"Jim believe me all I can see is the damage already done," admitted John with a resigned sigh. "Burnett literally sat on my doorstep waiting for his chance with Sam. The things that he tried to do, the things he said to my boy… it just makes me sick to my stomach thinking on it."

"He was expert at playing people John. You have to believe that no matter what he might have insinuated to your boy that Sam didn't swallow any of his lies."

Confession spilled out of John, "God Jim, don't you see that some of what Burnett said to Sammy was true, that out of sight was out of mind in my case. He knew that Sam wasn't my number one priority and took great delight in cramming that fact down my boy's throat. Sam knows I dumped and run, how do we ever get past that?"

Remembering how he had colluded with Dean to keep his brother out of the hunt Jim responded, "You forgetting that I was the one insisting you leave Samuel behind. That I should have checked in with Joshua to make sure he was okay."

Bitterly John broke in, "We both know that was my job. I'm his dad for christsake but I let my bad temper stop me from acting like that one time too many. Fucking stupid pride kept up the barricades between us the moment I left him alone, and every single night after that."

Gently Jim responded, "Pride brings down even the strongest of us, just don't let it stop you from telling your son know just how much you love him. You both need that comfort right now."

John found himself sucking back a tremulous breath, the compassion of Murphy's words picking away at his emotional walls, "I came too damn close to losing everything Jim. You can't possibly know how terrifying a feeling that is."

"I think I know something of what your going through as I wake up every night in a cold sweat thinking on what might have happened to the lad…"

A judder ran through John at the unwanted imagery his friend's words evoked and he softly confessed, "I'm scared for him Jim. Sometimes I watch him sleep and I wonder how he is still so much like his mother, how can he still possess such a gentle soul after all that he has been exposed to?"

"Sam's gentle soul has always trusted that with you or his brother around that his world is safe."

"No, not any more. I wasn't there for him Jim and he knows it," whispered John sadly.

"Its still part of his makeup to want to believe in you John. Burnett words can only continue to hold power over you both if you let them. Sam's still just a kid that needs his family, and his cantankerous old man, no matter what."

"You think so? Some days I look at him and wonder how I can keep him Jim. It feels like I'm standing at the edge of a vortex watching my boy being sucked out of my grip and I can't put on the breaks to stop it."

Guessing at the man's fears, the inner demons that drove John to recklessness with his boys, Jim advised, "Talk to him John, don't let the silence build again between the two of you again."

"And say what exactly? That the reason I'm a hard hearted sonofabitch is because its the only way I know to rein him in and keep him safe?"

"Would it really hurt so much just to loosen up just a little with him and tell him some of this? You should have figured it out by now, that he responds better to the positive rather than the negative," whispered back Jim softly, surprised at such a frank confession from the normally tight lipped hunter.

"You know with Dean I have this easy understanding, this connection and things just run so smoothly between us, but with Sammy I just find myself struggling."

"Talk to him John."

"I don't know how," admitted John with a weary sigh. "So yeah call me a coward but its easier to run away from Wisconsin and try and make things right as best I can somewhere else. Gotta believe that in time he'll love me again."

"You fool, he already does, always will."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Dean listened in with a cocked ear, even forgoing another bite of his slowly congealing mess of a burger to avoid missing any of the conversation on the other side of the booth. His interest spiked even more after Sam's hasty departure and the three girls started to voice their opinions on his little brother.

A condemning voice followed soon as Gail voiced her annoyance, "Trudy, you've been holding out on us again. Just when did you start to mix it up with Dimples in History?"

_Dimples? Is that how the girls saw his brother? Gonna have to remember that one later he told himself with a smirk. _

Trudy answered with a throaty laugh, "Oops - didn't I tell you that I've been sitting with him in History since he got back from being sick?"

Gail shook her head, clearly confused, "But History? You freaking hate history."

"Used too, but now that I get to sit next to Sam for two hours it ain't so bad. Besides you know he gets straight A's just by breathing. I never thought I'd say it but a guy with brains is quite a turn on."

The other girls sitting with Gail knew her friend opposite too well and chirped in, "Come on its not his brain's you want to get your grubby hands on. We've all clocked that tight butt of his…especially now he's put the weight back on. He's looking decidedly edible all over again."

"Its not just his butt Verna," recalled the Gail with a dirty chuckle, "I mean have you seen the size of his hands? Makes you want to do something naughty with them if you know what I mean."

Dean snuffled back a loud snort at the implication behind the girl's words but managed to keep himself seated so that he could continue to listen in. The teen-bitches really did see a side of Sam he just hadn't noticed before and he was literally rooted to the spot wanting to hear more.

"God your such a slut Gail," sniffed back Trudy, "Sam doesn't give the time of day to slutty girls never mind look at them."

A wall of laughter erupted as Verna and Gail blurted out together, "Well that leaves you screwed Trudy."

Indignant Trudy hit back, "You'll be laughing on the other side of your stupid faces when I reel him in."

Gail warned, "Don't think your Ex is gonna like that one little bit. I heard the rumours about what Dimple's did to him and his two gorillas."

Verna nudged Gail, "God yeah he sure as hell sported some pretty impressive shiners for while. Never did swallow the line that it was because of some dodgy football tackle. Did California really rain on his ass?"

Conspiratorially Trudy leant in and answered in a loud whisper, "I'm not supposed to tell anyone as Stuart made me swear to keep it zipped, but if you promise not tell anyone then…."

Gail and Verna both nodded quickly, eager to hear fresh gossip albeit second hand and Trudy's voice deepened. "Remember when Sam first started he seemed real stuck up and some of us wanted to let him know it wasn't appreciated." She waited for agreeing nods before continuing, "Stu went just a little too far one day and, well, Sam wasn't too happy about it."

Dean tensed up at the confession, wondering just what the hell had gone on at the school with his baby brother when by all accounts he had been sunning himself down in Florida.

Trudy continued, "It was stupid really, they were messing around with that dumpy chick Nancy and things just went on from there."

"Nancy?" queried Verna, struggling to put a face to the name.

Gail piped in, "Oh you know, that fat girl two years behind us whose uncle snuffed it not so long ago. Her aunt upped sticks a few weeks back and took them back to Chicago."

Verna nodded, "Yeah she clung to Sam like a limpet till he got sick," Then slipping in the verbal equivalent of a knife between the rib cage she deftly added, "Still now she's out of the picture its gotta make you wonder why you've still got absolutely nowhere with him Trudy."

"Yeah," sneered Gail, "Especially when you're known to hand it out on a plate."

Trudy's lips thinned, "I'm not the one whose phone number is etched into the bleachers saying call if you want a good time. Your not known for being a Friday night easy date for nothing, right?"

"God your such a bitch when you're not getting any," snapped back Gail rankled at the fresh insults coming her way.

Verna stepped in, "Come on girls stop the catfight as I wanna know all about Stu's shiners. What exactly did Sam do?"

A moment of quiet descended over the booth and Dean strained to listen desperate to hear all about his brother's run in with what sounded like the archetypal school bully.

Huffing out a loud resigned sigh Trudy finally confessed, "Like I said they tried using Nancy to give out a warning to Sam, but it backfired when he found her blubbering like a baby. Said something like it wasn't done to make a 'nice girl cry' then beat the crap out of them."

Verna sucked in an amazed breath, "Wow, Stuey isn't exactly a light weight, neither are his buddies. Dimples sure must be fit to take them out like that."

"Yeah apparently he said Sam did some ninja moves right out the movies on the three of them. It was that bad that even after he got sick with pneumonia and came back looking like a ghost Stuey was still to scared to breathe wrong in Sam's direction."

Dean stiffened at hearing this fresh news about his brother, and his jaw set hard. Pneumonia and getting into fights at school left him wondering what else he was going to learn about his brother tonight.

A voice he had come to recognise as Gail's finally insinuated something that sent Dean's blood turn cold, "Well maybe that ex of yours was scared for another thing entirely. Maybe the reason you've gotten nowhere with Dimples is that he and Coach Enders are pretty close. Makes you wonder why Sam never got his ass suspended for beating the crap out them boys like that, don't it?"

A gasp went up of disbelief from Trudy, "No way is that boy is not in any way shape or form gay. Not that mighty fine man flesh. It can't be…."

"Like I said you put it out on plate girlfriend, like sweet peach pie and ice cream, and he hasn't taken a bite. Just gets you thinking, that maybe all the times he got after school detention with the Coach it wasn't just because he didn't have his gym kit is all I'm saying."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

"Where the hell have you been?" demanded John Winchester as his oldest traipsed in with a bow headed little brother in his wake. He had expected some sort of apology from Dean but got only an accusoratory glare.

Dean pushed past his glowering dad and snarled out his anger, "Oh you know how it goes, guy goes for a burger, picks up a girl then has his whole night ruined by finding out what his little baby brother has been up to in Wisconsin whilst his brain took a sabbatical."

John's eyebrows knitted together wondering just what truths had been spilled in his absence, "What the hell do you mean, your not making any sense here Dean."

Dean shook his head, eyeing his dad with an assessing look wondering how he could be so oblivious to things when it came to his baby brother, "So you haven't you heard the the rumour going round about Sammy's sexual orientation, about just how _close_ a relationship he has with some fucking sports Coach called Enders?"

John's mouth dropped open all thoughts of chastising Dean forgotten as he shot a look of disbelief at his youngest, "Sam what the hell is your brother going on about here?"

Face blushing furiously Sam shook his head angry in denial, "Don't listen to him dad. None of its true about Coach Enders, all he has done is to help me get fit again. He thinks I've got potential and…"

"Potential my ass!" interrupted Dean harshly, still feeling nauseated at the images the girls back in the diner had left him with. Grabbing his brother's shirt in tight fist he hissed angrily at Sam, "You really that naïve little brother not to know what he meant, what he really wants? You that fucking stupid to have let some creep get his hand down your pants when I was out of commission or down in Florida?"

Sam wanted to voice a denial but all he could see, all he could remember was another man's unwanted hands on him and he froze.

John watched the colour drain from his youngest face and forcibly parted his sons, knowing just how deeply Dean's word had scored a wound on his youngest boy. Holding him back at arms length he warned, "You hold up here Dean and bite your tongue. If your brother said nothing is going on with Enders then I believe him. Like you should."

Dean still incensed spat back, "Sammy's the one who keep digging himself in a hole here. Why is he so fucking tight lipped if he's got nothing to hide? Why all those detentions with the coach after school? Just the two of them, alone, together…I'm gonna go fucking cut his balls off and stuff them down his throat if he touched my brother…."

Remembering the phone messages from the school that he only retrieved later John admitted, "Stop it Dean, your blowing things up way out of proportion here over some stupid gym kit I forgot to buy. Sam got the detentions because of that."

"A missing kit doesn't explain why Sam got away with beating the crap out of three jocks on Enders football squad does it? Jesus since when did my brother go from uber-geek to fucking Bruce Lee?"

"Fighting? Sam, just what the hell don't I know here?" demanded John from his youngest wondering how he had let yet another thing slip under his radar with the boy.

"Yeah Sammy spill it cos I've got to say that in my day that would have earned a pretty tidy spell in the principals office and a suspension. Not time alone with the coach who thinks you've got 'potential' does it?"

Swallowing on a dry mouth Sam answered best he could, fighting back the sting of tears as he looked at his brother who looked scary angry right about now, "I'm not stupid, I knew how to sort them out without getting caught. No one could prove a thing not unless those idiots wanted to rat themselves out for picking on some girl and making her so scared that she cried."

Watching his brother's shake is head in disbelief Sam shot a him a rebellious look, "I don't know why your having such a hissy fit, not as if you didn't split your knuckles on some goons face back in the day."

"There were three of them you idiot. You should have had some back up," Dean paused and sneered out his contempt, "Or perhaps you figured that your special buddy Enders would cover your backside."

Jutting out his chin in defiance Sam hissed back, "The coach is a good honest man and if you think I swing that way them you must be really screwed in the head."

John gasped out surprised at the belligerent tone his youngest had taken with is brother, "Sam, don't."

Sam saw the hurt flash in his brother's eyes and tried to limit the damage, "I'm sorry I didn't mean it to come out like that."

Tapping the side of his head Dean growled back, "I know I have a few potholes inside here still, but the last thing I need is to have them filled in by the likes of Wanna-be-Barbie and her pals."

Sam countered, "You said it Dean, they're just airheads and nothing that comes out their mouths is worth listening to. This whole gay rumour is just those bitches trying to deflect the truth, that I wouldn't touch their skanky asses with a barge pole."

Sighing his relief at his youngest explanation John put a hand on Dean's shoulder, "Come on son calm down. You blowing a gasket over nothing more than some spiteful girls voicing off is going to do no one any good."

Stepping out of father's hand Dean shook his head, confusion still clear on his face, "No dad, those teenage witches managed to fill me in on quite a bit that you didn't tell me about. Like my baby brother having pneumonia and not a little dose of the flu." Locking eyes with his dad he wagged a finger in warning at him, "Don't try pretending that you didn't know about that too old man. You knew how serious this was and didn't say a damn word to me."

In ready defence Sam stepped in, "Hey this isn't dad's fault, I fudged the whole being sick thing as you were real bad for a time and I just wanted you well again. Don't you see that after all that's gone on that this doesn't even measure point one on the Richter scale of things."

John voiced his own agreement, "You weren't up to the knowing Dean when your brother fell ill. Truth be told we were both worried how this would have impacted on your recovery. You near died on us son, we did just what we thought best."

Dean scrunched up his face, still filtering his dad's words and finding no anchor there, "I just don't get why you've kept me in the dark ever since. You think me that fucking fragile?"

John cocked his head and threw his well built son a slight smile, "Look shit happened Dean and we just learnt to deal with it, like we always do. Like we will now. Okay?"

"A bucket load of shit happened by the sounds of things. Anymore surprises coming my way old man?" asked Dean.

Sam shot a quick look at his dad fearing that he was going to add more fuel to the fire by telling him the truth about what happened one rainy night. Dean had gone near berserk on thinking something had gone on with him and the coach, what would happen when he found out what had really happened with Burnett.

He hadn't realised he was holding his breath until he saw John slowly shake his head and gave a deflecting answer, "Look scream as much as you like at me, but at least give Sam a break here. He did what he thought best for you and put the needs of the family first here Dean."

Pulling away Dean shook his head the anger fizzing still away inside of him, eyes travelling back and forth between his grim looking dad and his clearly hurting brother. "You don't get it do you? I've been ragging on Sam's butt about letting a stupid cold keep him down when he's been battling freaking pneumonia. How bad do you think that makes me feel?"

"I'm sorry Dean," offered Sam in apology. "I would have told you, I promise."

Dean sucked in a long breath, wondering not for the first time what his absence this past month had cost his brother. "Look you idiot it's always been my job to look out for you and keeping me in the dark like this was just wrong."

Nodding his head John was forced to agree, "Your right son, looking out for Sam has always been your job but in the same breath you have to learn to let go of them apron strings. You're not going to be able to keep tabs on him all the time from now on. We have jobs to go on and he still wants to finish school so there are going to be days when he has to use his own judgement and look out for himself."

Dean threw a look at his brother, trying to take onboard what his father had said but still only saw his gauche little brother, all skinny arms and legs and no commonsense at all it seemed. His anger evaporated and he reached out to cuff a hand round the back of his neck so that their foreheads touched, "You get that you scared the hell out of me here Sammy, though I guess deep down I know you'd never let some perv touch you, you're a Winchester despite the girly hair after all. So sorry I said all that crap about your coach…."

He wasn't expecting the way his brother tensed up and quickly pulled away from him, eyes glistening suddenly bright with unshed tears. Whacking him gently on the shoulder Dean added, "Come on Sammy, I said I', sorry I got the wrong end of the stick with this Enders's guy." Before adding on a more serious note, "Seriously though next time you try to feed me a line of bull I will seriously kick your ass till its black and blue. You understand me here little brother. ?"

"Yeah Dean. I get it, and I'm sorry, I never meant to hurt you," whispered back Sam in return, relief flooding through him that whatever had played out only minutes ago he had his brother's faith restored in him again.

Feeling reassured that things were falling back into their correct order in the Winchester world of doing things Dean huffed back, "So anymore little secrets you need to spill Sam, cos' believe me any amnesty time is fast running out here brother."

Sam mutely shook, his ability to speak stilled as he caught the closed off look in his dad's eyes. After Dean's reaction to what he thought had gone on with the Coach the last thing he wanted to tell him about was Burnett and his filthy hands and vicious mouth.

Dean took his brother's silence as a yes and added, "Well that's good because I sure as hell don't want to find six months down the line of some underage fugly girl with a bun in the oven wanting you to play the baby's daddy?"

"Dean!" whined back Sam a furious blush spreading across his cheeks.

John's scowl broke into a wide grin and he couldn't stop a laugh from escaping, "I think son that's more in your department. I think we have a few good years before we have to start worrying about your brother here."

Remembering the hot girl his brother had hooked up in Santa Barbara Dean muttered back, "Oh you wish old man. You wish."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Watching as Sam silently ate breakfast, more a bowl of sugary milk than cereal, John knew it was too early in the day to be nagging the boy about his eating habits. As long he kept putting the weight back on he was just happy to let things coast for a while longer.

Watching him finish up he asked, "You have everything packed up, as I'm not hanging for you sort out all the crap in your room after school today."

Sam shrugged slightly his gaze locked on the view outside the window. All the hours he had been forced into chopping wood now seemed redundant and he eyed the stack outside the kitchen door with bitter amusement. At least the rats were going to have somewhere warm to ride out the end of the Wisconsin winter he figured.

"You listening to me or is your head full of cotton wool again?" demanded John impatiently, wondering just what the boy was daydreaming on now.

"Yes sir," answered Sam suddenly keen to be on his way. It was going to be his last day at Lincoln High and apart from a smattering of good teachers he wasn't that sorry to be saying his goodbyes. Tugging on his jacket he muttered, "I'll be a little later than usual. Got something to finish up first."

"Make it snappy as I don't intend to hang around all night while you kiss some skinny assed school girl your goodbye."

Throwing his dad an unreadable look Sam shook his head and headed for the door, "No sir."

John winced as he watched his son swing his backpack on his shoulder and left without any need of a goodbye, a chill settling into his stomach as he heard only the familiar title of 'sir' on his youngest son's tongue once again. It seems the rare moment of calling him with any affection had been lost after Dean's temper fit two nights back.

"Sam?" he called after him softly but he got no reaction, his boy already halfway out of the door and not stopping for anything. The firm click as the door shut made John flinch once more and he wondered whether he should have had the courage to say something more substantial to his son than moan about him being packed and readying to leave. Maybe he should have offered to drive him into school, this being their last chance to clear the air before they left Baudette and all leave all bad memories behind them.

Draining the last of his coffee he went to follow but was waylaid by a half awake Dean who blearily asked, "Geek boy gone already?"

"You just missed him son," answered John, his eyes locked on the closed door over Dean's shoulder.

"He eat breakfast at least?" demanded Dean as he poured himself a cup of coffee before sitting down at the table, nursing the hot brew in his hands as a warming comforter in the still frigid early morning air.

"Yeah, the kid's been fed and watered," murmured back John distractedly, chewing on his bottom lip in thought.

"Good, he's still all skin and bones."

Sighing John let his chance to follow after Sam dissipate and instead allowed Dean to take his attention away from his shortcomings with his youngest. If he wangled it right he would have time to talk to Sam later, maybe get him to travel in the truck with him part way to New England and help break up the icy barrier building up between the two of them once more.

"So Bobby got this job all sussed out then?" queried Dean before a loud yawn escaped and he fisted the sleep from his eyes.

"Seems like it, sooner we get going the better."

Eyeing his dad he could guess where his thoughts were at and Dean asked, "Guess you were just as surprised as I was when the kid didn't throw a hissy fit last night when you told him we were moving on again."

Shrugging his shoulders John admitted, "Sam is just growing up I figure. Bout time…"

Dean nodded slowly, supping carefully at the scolding liquid, "Something you're keen on isn't it old man? I remember you know why you took Sam to this hellhole in the first place. You wanted to knock them soft edges off him and make him into that man you keep harping on about."

Swallowing back an acid tongued retort John shook his head, all too aware of where the last attempts to straighten up the boy had led them all. "I just want him prepared like you were at his age."

"You know it comes at a cost dad. This growing up too fast," responded Dean unable to hide his own bitterness at the enforced loss of his own childhood.

Knowing what his son was hinting at John locked hard eyes with him, "You think that pretending that Sam doesn't need to toughen up will keep him safe? That sort of thinking will end up either killing him or one of us. You know things are out there that will hurt him if they can."

"I know dad, its just…. well its just Sam's always been different from us. He'd sooner jump into a spike filled ditch than step on an ant for christsake."

John threw him a steely look, his lips thinning on thinking on the dangers still out there for his youngest, "Ants can bite Dean. The sooner he learns to squish them the better."

Dean threw him a rueful smile, "You really think if you keep chipping away at him that he's gonna change that much? He still one hundred percent geeky little Sammy under all that growth spurt dad."

"Yeah, but maybe with all those growing pains he's going through it will help straighten his thinking out."

"No matter how much it hurts him?"

John slowly refilled his mug and kept his voice level as his guts twisted inside at his son's poignant observance, "If it keeps him alive Dean, I don't care how much it hurts him."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Knocking on the door Sam realised he wasn't fully prepared for the task ahead when it swung open and he was faced by the well lined face of a homely middle age woman. Fair in colouring and short of stature she eyed Sam with a curious air, not able to place him as any friend of her two youngest children. "Can I help you son?"

Swallowing what little moisture he had in his suddenly dry mouth Sam nodded slightly, "Yes ma'am. If your Mrs Merton I need to pass on a message to you."

The woman frowned, studied the tall teenager in front of her with sudden suspicion. "You're not one of them bible trashing weirdos from the county over next, because I'm telling you now I'm a good god fearing woman who don't need to hear any of that new age crap on my doorstep."

Sam quickly shook his and a smile deepened his dimples for a brief second, "No ma'am, I'm just here to keep a promise to friend who helped me a while back."

Mrs Merton studied him again, saw only soft eyes that she couldn't turn away from. "Okay son, best start spilling as I have a cake in the oven that I don't mean to let burn. You look half frozen so come in and warm up in the kitchen."

Sam hesitated, eyes darting past the woman to see into the comfortable setting inside and his tummy did a small flip-flop. Matt had this life, a mom, a dad, a real complete family that the bastard Burnett had taken from him. Now matter how crazy he might sound in the next five minutes he had at least let his mom know just how much he had treasured it. How much he really had loved them all.

Sam took a long breath efore stepping inside to follow knowing that this one last thing he could do for Matt Merton no matter how painful it might prove to be.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

John tapped the glass of his wristwatch impatiently. When Sam had said he'd be a little late after school he had taken it to mean only a few minutes not a full two hours later with still no sign of him.

After the first hour Dean's impatience and growing concern had won out and he had taken off in the impala to go find him. Still another hour later he was missing both sons and they were fast losing daylight.

Mind made up he shrugged on his jacket taking a guess as to where his boy might be and not liking it one little bit, "Damn it Sammy, don't you start up on me here son. We need to keep it together."

After a familiar trek John found his boy by the lake looking utterly lost and his annoyance vanished as his fatherly concerns kicked in. This was the last place his boy should have returned to, "What are you doing here son?"

Startled Sam jerked his head up and spun round sporting a look similar to grief that John never wanted to see on his face. Struggling to keep his own emotional equilibrium John added, "We were supposed to leave for New England remember? Got a long road trip ahead of us and you dawdling like this is putting us behind schedule."

Shaking his head, as if to clear away the cobwebs lingering there, Sam answered, "Sorry sir, I guess I let the time get away from me."

Suspicions arising that maybe his boy's assertion that he had gotten rid of the spirit might be a lie John asked harshly, "What's going on here? Who did you go and see?"

"No one you know. I just kept to a promise is all."

Tensing at the vague answer John snapped back, "Don't get smart with me here boy, give me a name."

For a long moment Sam stared at his father before letting out a shaky breath, "Martha Merton. I made a promise to Matt, a sort of a condition to him passing on. Just making sure I kept it is all."

"Merton, the kid who…." John couldn't finish, aware that he had never taken the time to really ask his boy what had happened that night he had came back here to banish the spirit.

Watching how Sam turned his head away under his glare John's heart lurched and he twisted his fingers into his boy's jacket, "Look…son… I guess a lot happened here that I should have asked you about. I just got so wrapped up in getting you boys well again that I didn't take it in that might want to go over things."

"I don't Sir," responded Sam, pulling away, gently without any sting of anger. He looked wistfully at the lake, grey waters calm in the late afternoon fading light. "Like you said to Dean, shit just happens and we deal with it."

"Yeah, I guess we do." agreed John, "But if you need to talk, well…."

Snorting softly Sam shook his head, "Sounds like as much fun as having teeth pulled. Nothing else to say is there?"

"Sam…"

Walking stiffly away Sam threw over his shoulder, "So New England? Sounds as good a place as anywhere to head for after the sunny delights of Wisconsin."

"Son?" pleaded John, not knowing how to break through the armour his boy was freshly sporting. "We good here?"

"Yes Sir. As good as ever," agreed Sam softly with no real fire behind his words. He continued on walking back to the cabin locking mentally and physically away the smarting pain the memories the place gave him. He was dealing with them just like his dad wanted. Just like a Winchester was supposed to do. No all he had to do was deal with facing his brother, smile brightly like expected and keep the pretence on going.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

It had taken almost a decade later before Joshua met with a grown up and doped out Sammy Winchester and faced the pent up anger that he had lived with him since Wisconsin. Now days later his jaw ached still from the heavy punch sent his way, the bruising fading but the surrounding tissue still tender. Sipping tiredly on a flat near empty bottle of beer in some seedy bar he sensed killer eyes boring into his back before a fresh bottle landed on the table in front of him. Glancing up he could see the cold expression on Dean's face and swallowed down a gulp of unease.

Softly, too softly, Dean asked, "So big man, something I think you need to fess up to I'm figuring. Something you know about my little brother that no one seems to want to fill me in about."

"It was an age back Dean, and I promised to keep my trap shut. I broke my word once to the boy, I don't intend to do it again. Just let it go. Please."

A dark smile ghosted across Dean's face, his voice a warning as he demanded, "Nah, don't think so. Not this time. Not when it comes to Sammy."

Sam watched in the shadows, sitting at a small unlit table, studying his brother's expression change from disbelief to anger to then utter devastation as he heard the story spill out from the older hunter. After all the years of suppression he didn't know whether he felt any relief as the truth came out, about an episode in his life he had smothered to almost non-existence in trying salvage a relationship with his brother and father that had been so badly fractured. Silently he stood up and left the noise of the bar to drink in the cold night air wondering why life just kept screwing him and his brother over, time and time again.

As he sat on the hood of the impala he knew sooner rather than later he'd have to face the disappointment spill out of his brother but right now all he wanted to do was keep some distance from having to feel such intense emotions, even if it did seem the cowards way out.

For once he just didn't want to feel anything. It didn't work and a few seconds later his heart thumped loud in chest in panic, wondering when to expect his brother's irate appearance.

'Dean will forgive me', he told himself in silent prayer. 'Please god, he has to.'

A sad smile ghosted over his face, tears suddenly too big for his eyes on thinking on his brother and the love and faith that went it. Dean despite everything would always be his own personal superglue; his ability to stick him back together again each time he broke apart sometimes a miracle in itself.

'Yeah.' he told himself again, "Dean will forgive me, might want to knock some sense into my stupid head first but he won't stay angry with me forever.'

Dean was his big brother after all, would always be one step ahead on the road ahead of them, a buffer to the encroaching darkness they both could feel coming their way.

Standing up abruptly Sam found his courage once again, his belief in his brother unshakeable, and he headed back to the bar to have that long awaited talk with his brother. Chick flick moment in the making he guessed, with a wry smile. Go figure.

**T****HE END**

_Well a bit of a long journey to reach the end here folks, and I just hope you had the staying power to stick with it. The final segment of this chapter is a reference to my previous story ' Becoming too visible' and so seemed the perfect way to wrap the storyline arc up. Again huge thanks for having the patience to stick with this and to all the support you have given me. Rozzy  
_


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